the Rift


X Amount of Words [Aryel, Open]

Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#1

Oh, rain. How he despised it in all it's aqueous qualities.

Despite the warmth that accompanied Birdsong, it also came with boughts of thunderstorms and heavy rains to help bring life back into Helovia. Frostfall had rendered the land barren, making it one of the most difficult years so far, if the stallion had been listening to everyone's complaints right. While hardly one to complain himself, even Crowley couldn't help but flick his tail in absolute annoyance and let loose a sharp snort. His brindled hide was soaked through as he moved across the meadow at a swift pace, his cloven hooves leaving soggy impressions in the softening ground as he moved. The Basin was a long ways off from here, and the last thing he wanted to do was venture into the Steppe soaked to the bone. He could curse this meadow for being so bare, so open.

And then, finally, relief came in the form of a large redwood in the distance. It sat close to the river that ran through the meadow, but far enough away to move in time should a flash flooding be a problem.

Crowley made a bee-line for the redwood, and once under it, he came to a stop and shook the water from his pelt. The tree, while thick in every way possible, took the brunt of most of the rain, keeping the stallion as dry as possible. A few wayward droplets escaped through the leaves every now and then, splattering back down against the Phantom's hide, but it was nothing compared to the brutal shower he'd just escaped.

'This is what I get for stretching my legs?' He mused in his head, casting his golden eyes skyward at the thought. Surely the Gods were laughing at him right now, but he didn't care. At least he was alone.


Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#2

Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"





Rain, rain, go away. Come again when we actually need you.

Aryel slogged through the meadow, ears flicking in annoyance at the strands of itchy wet grass sticking to her sides and legs. The Frostfall snowmelt was still nourishing the plants of Helovia, why did they need a thunderstorm?! True, the grass was still recovering from an especially cold season, but drowning it wouldn't help. Casting another spiteful glance up at the dark clouds rolling overhead, she scanned the meadow for somewhere she could take refuge. She was completely sodden, wings dripping water as she moved. She didn't like flying with wet wings, they felt too heavy, and it unbalanced her. Now she would have to wait until the storm abated and her wings dried to fly.

KRRRRRRAKKK! spoke the lightning as it struck the ground somewhere in the far distance. Aryel jumped at the noise, but the bolt had illuminated a possible shelter, a tall redwood with a think trunk and branches spread in a way that seemed welcoming to the blue mare. She quickened her pace, ignoring the puddles she splashed though, determined to get to shelter.

Aryel had approached the tree in a path opposite to Crowley, and couldn't see him behind the wide trunk. She was too preoccupied with trying to shake the worst of the moisture off her coat, wings opening slightly to try and speed up their drying. Her mane was soaked and hung flat, already-mussy forelock hanging into her eyes. With a toss of her head, she moved the errant strands aside, then stopped.

What was that smell?

It was washed out from the rain, and had she not been standing a matter of feet from him she probably wouldn't have ever scented him. Cautiously, she took a few steps around the trunk, peeking her head around to see who else was sharing the redwood's shelter.

It was that godsdamn Crowley.

Aryel's eyes widened for a moment, then she scowled. "Oh no," she groaned. "Not you again." But of course she would have to have the bad luck to find herself in close proximity with that ugly striped ass once more.

"blah blah blah."


"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"



Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#3

It was difficult to hear much beyond the rumbling of thunder and the incessant downpour of rain, and so when he heard another voice merely feet away from him, the stallion tensed, but instantly relaxed when he saw who it was. Aryel. She still wore that crazy colored, spotted coat, and still bore a gaudy halo over her silly little head. Crowley had to hold back a snort of laughter at her disheveled state, soaked to the bone and her wings drenched with rain. Not that he was much different, but...

"Oh, what a lovely surprise," he spoke up with a lazy grin towards her, remembering fondly their first, and last encounter within the Threshold. The fight between the Pegasus standing before him and the new recruit Dakini had been nothing but enjoyable, and the brindle had almost, almost, joined into the fight himself. But that was not the way that he worked, not when there were others to throw into harm's way first.

Turning so that he was facing the mare at a skewed angle, Crowley slapped his soaking tail against his hocks, looking Aryel over with pure amusement. Even if it didn't seem so, Crowley did loathe the being standing before him. An odd creature he was, for even he hardly knew how to describe himself at times...

He regarded her with a look of confusion, and seemed to tilt his head a bit to the side as she spoke. "Did you not miss me, darling? Because, oh, did I miss you." He paused then, simply enjoying any sort of pull or change to her features, waiting for that hint of annoyance before he continued. "Maybe when this little rainstorm is done, you could take a jolly walk back home with me.


Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#4

Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"





The blue roan rolled her eyes in response to Crowley's amused expression, ears turning back in annoyance. "I wish I could say it was a nice surprise to see you too," she shot back, "but I was raised not to lie." Had they met somewhere other than under this soggy tree, she might have already tried to kick him, but the rain had dampened her spirits and she doubted Crowley would take the challenge anyway, ugly coward that he was. Besides, she thought, on the off-chance he beats me I'd have to find somewhere else to take shelter. No, for now she would be peaceful...to a reasonable degree.

For all his flirtatious words, Aryel could tell all he really wanted was to get a rise out of her, sending her stomping out of the tree's shelter like a pouty foal. Well, let him try. Even one as temperamental as her knew how to banter. "I missed you like I would miss a bee sting." she said, flicking her tail. "That is, not all." Another fork of lightning crackled in the distance, and she found herself entertaining a happy vision of Crowley getting turned into a charred mess by one.

Okay, maybe that was a little vicious. But still.

She regarded him with a flat glare as he spoke again. "Buddy, the only walk I'd want to take with you is off a cliff. Having a horn won't help you fly, you know." She shuffled her wings into a more comfortable position. Really, what made him think unicorns were "superior"? If anything, pegasi, who could travel on both land and air, were the best, although she would never say that.

"blah blah blah."


"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"



Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#5

"Oh, my mother was the same," the striped stallion said in reply, his brows furrowing slightly as if thinking back to a time long ago. "Although, I might have been a tad more brutal in my honesty than she.." Those words were spoken in more of a murmur to himself, and were almost lost at the sound of another crack of thunder. It ripped through the air, daring anyone to step up and challenge it. Perhaps standing under one of the only trees in the meadow wasn't so wise afterall, but... It wouldn't be a worry until it happened.

Turning his eyes away from the dark skies and back to the blue roan standing annoyingly close to him, Crowley cocked a hind foot as he listened. Her insults were amusing, to say the least, and he welcomed the challenge of coming up with better ones, or simply throwing them back in her face as if he might enjoy whatever it was she was suggesting. He liked to think that he could, if only for the simple fact that he knew it would annoy her.

Her next string of words had the brindle tilting his head back at the thought, and that sly grin that was becoming his trademark came pulling at his lips. "That would be lovely, my dear; how I do love the wind in my mane..." It was impossible to keep a straight face. Meeting the mare's azure eyes again, he regarded her with a look of amusement, as if waiting for her to snap at him, inquiring just why his eyes were upon her.

A couple more moments of silence had passed before he drew in a breath, and he spoke again. "You know," he started up again, watching her carefully for the hint of a reaction, no matter how miniscule, "If I didn't know better, I might think that you're racist, thinking those wings make you better than everyone else."


Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#6

Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"





Aryel snorted at the mention of mothers. Crowley wouldn't know, but it rubbed a few hairs the wrong way. Ariessa had been a loving mother to Aryel, but she was so strict. So ladylike. And she had wanted her daughter to grow up the same way. She frowned on her playfighting with colts and watching the soldiers practice, and instead tried to get her to play with the other fillies and generally be quiet and gentle. The mussy-maned foal hadn't complied.

She looked upwards as a gust of wind made some of the topmost branches creak alarmingly, taking a few steps away from the trunk. Oh, how she wanted to be back in the Throat, tucked away in the thicket of grasses, brambles, and short, twisted trees that she often used in inclement weather. Had she been with someone other than Crowley, she might've made a crack about some obscure weather god feeling neglected, but her present company was not the type she'd be jovial with. She neglected to comment on his fall-off-a-cliff retort, but still gave him a nasty look, meeting his impudent stare, which rarely seemed to leave her. At least, she hoped he was just being impudent. Otherwise...ick.

Dispelling the thought from her mind, she looked out on the sodden plains until he spoke again. His next words made her head whip back towards him, mane scattering droplets of water as she turned to scowl at him. "Me, racist? And you're not?" she said, determined not to let her anger lead to that embarrassing squeaky tone it sometimes brought on, "Do you remember what you said the first time we met, hornhead?" Her tone lowered in a snobby-voiced mockery of Crowley's vocals. "Now, darling, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but I digress; it is not my fault that you were brought into this world as a lesser." She stomped the ground with a hoof. "And you just called me racist?"

"blah blah blah."


"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"



Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#7

As they spoke, the weather was ever so slowly fading into the background, hardly noticeable except for when a bolt of lightning strayed too close for comfort. But Crowley was unmoving, his feet planted firmly as he tossed his bantering back and forth with his lovely company.

There it was; that reaction he had been so desperately looking for. His expression never changed, even when Aryel whipped around to face him, looking the epitome of pissed. His lips pursed to hold back a fit of laughter as she recited quite perfectly his words spoken in the Threshold, which he was sure that even he couldn't remember with such clarity. But, finally, he was unable to hold it back any longer, and the laughter came spewing forth. "My, my!" He spoke up with obvious amusement, "I must say, you must have something going for me if you remember that well... Since I doubt you're one of those eidetic types."

When he had calmed, the brindled stallion took in a deep, long breath to settle himself before he focused back on the blue of Aryel's eyes, that smug look returning yet again to his features. "Oh, featherbrain... I said nothing of my own racism; there's no denying that I am, I'm not afraid to admit it. Only a fool would say otherwise. But you," he said, regarding the pegasus with an uncertain look, "You think those silly wings are better than the horns I bear upon my head? Honey, you're merely copying the birds! They were here first, you know."

Of course, it was likely that Aryel would simply throw the question back at him, but he was expecting it, ready for it.


Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#8

Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"





Gods. If it wasn't for the fact that fighting in a storm like this would be pointless, Aryel would've broken his neck by now (or at least tried to). "The only thing I've got going for you is a desire to beat you into a pulp." she practically snarled, lip curled in disgust. "But you're too much of a filthy coward to take such a challenge, I'm sure." She most certainly had no feelings whatsoever for this unicorn. Some horses were infuriating in a charming way. This horse was just infuriating, period.

She waited until he stopped laughing, desperately wishing to shut him up with a few well-placed hoof blows. I hope I meet you on the battlefield one day, she thought. I'll enjoy it. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I do indeed think wings serve more purpose then horns." Aryel smirked, realizing she might finally have sometime to hold over him. "You will never, ever know what it's like to leave the ground behind and see the world from a bird's-eye view, or feel the currents of air that stream above Helovia. Get attacked by a wolf pack? Oh, too bad, you can't just fly away."

She shuffled her wings again, flicking a few droplets of water in Crowley's direction. "It may not make me better, but having wings is certainly more useful than having horns." She regarded him smugly. "As for copying, well, we didn't exactly choose our path of evolution. And I could easily say you're copying an antelope. So what makes your horns so special?" She'd like to see him come up with a retort for that, although she had little doubt he would be able to.

"blah blah blah."


"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"



Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.


Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#9

Even if Crowley's nature tended to keep him away from fighting, it didn't mean he was afraid of it. Sure, he would much rather throw someone else into the throng of everything and fight his physical battles, that was just the way he was; but should he ever meet Aryel on the battlefield, weather pending, of course, he would gladly forge an attack upon her.

He listened with boredom as she went on about the pro's of having wings, and how he would 'never, ever' get to experience the ground leaving his feet. Perhaps he would go jump off a cliff by himself, if it got him away from the freedom loving, tree hugging Pegasus... Then he'd get to feel the jist of it, at least for a little while. "I don't need to run away from a wolf pack anyhow," he remarked with a simple grin, "I'm not the coward you think I am. It's a shame that you would fly away, though; I though you were a little more tough than that." His words were sure to get the mare riled up now, and he could not wait to see her reaction.

Sure enough, Aryel turned the knife on him, accusing him of copying an antelope. It wasn't an antelope; it was a Kudu his horns resembled, but he wouldn't go into the finer details of that. He would only get a roll of the eyes if he did. "There are many uses for them, if you must know," he began to explain, his voice remaining cool, "But I'm sure you don't care about the uses outsides of unicorns. For us, we are always equipped with a deadly weapon; much more effective than hooves or teeth. Tell me, did the pierce of Dakini's horn not hurt?" He paused then, allowing the Pegasus a moment to soak that in before he continued. "Mine may not serve the same effect, but they are still useful if I feel like bludgeoning someone to death."


Aryel Posts: 229
Dragon's Throat Soldier
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.4 :: 4
FennecFyre
#10

Aryel (December)
"Wait...what the--"





"Not a coward, eh?" said Aryel, raising an eyebrow as if the idea of Crowley doing anything brave was impossible to imagine. "I find that difficult to believe, given your behavior before. You had Dakini fight me in your stead, even though you could've easily taken me on. Or were you just scared of a mare half your size?" She gave a disgusted shake of her head. If his next words had been meant to cause her anger, it worked. "Oh, so because I'm not suicidal I'm not tough?" she snapped, sauntering up to Crowley and sticking her face in his, similar to how she had acted in the Threshold. "If it wasn't for this tree being the only shelter around I would've walloped you as soon as you spoke. You're just a fat, ugly gelding with an ego far too big for yourself, and I'd gladly help take you down a notch, believe me."

She stepped away, still glaring at him. This rainstorm couldn't end soon enough. "I count one use." she said. "And that's the weapon effect you just mentioned. Wings may not be as dangerous, but we can still dive-bomb and out-maneuver our enemies." She scoffed quietly when Crowley sarcastically inquired if Dakini's horn hurt when she rammed her. "I don't know, did it hurt when your mama took one look at you and said, 'damn, that's an ugly baby'? As for bludgeoning, the way those things curve you couldn't bludgeon a dying rabbit. Tell me," she asked in a mockingly sweet manner, "how often do you get those things stuck in bushes and trees?"

She really wished another Throat horse was here. Maybe Levi, or Kri. Maybe having both of them by her side would make Crowley a little quieter. She smiled briefly for a moment, recalling how the arrogant unicorn Tribute had run like a little foal when Kri showed up. Maybe having another Throat horse here would have the same effect on Crowley.[/b]

"blah blah blah."


"WHAT IS THIS GYPSY MAGIC SH*T?!"



Thanks for the good times, and no hard feelings for the bad times.

Vicer and Aryel's new threads never happened.



Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture