the Rift


Solving the Rubix Cube | Quilyan, Open

Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#1



Ah yes, Endless Blue. Rowan remembered it quite well. The strange stallions that had flanked her on these beaches, one of a cold and mysterious variety with a dog wound tighter than a spring. The other, a kind but strange sandy colored man. He had been like pure water from above, but when pressure made his visage ripple something strangled and dark appeared briefly. Rowan didn't understand Sandman. She hadn't seen him since that evening and hadn't cared enough to search for him. Something told her to stay away. 

So why did she come back? Back to these melting beaches, thawing from the ice of Frostfall. To the roiling waters she had leapt into with hard eyes of the same color. Pain was nothing when you could focus your mind to block every sense of it. Cocoa hooves brushed through the soft sands, curly blonde make falling over one lean shoulder. She may be small but she wasn't thin or weak. Golden white strands, nearly platinum, twirled within the light blonde of her tail. Her plume swaying behind her as she angled directly towards the icy embrace of the ocean once again. Today however was not a day for swimming. Sad as it was. 

When sand turned hard and wet, leaving perfect imprints of her hooves, Rowan turned parallel to the waves. As it ebbed and flowed the waters splashed around her ankles. In return she threw herself into an easy canter, letting the light wind whip her hair into a frenzy as she threw the water around her into little sprays of white. Letting her gaze remain where it was, sinking far back into memory. To a different time and place. Now where was she? Ah yes. Cassiopeia's words. First, she had to know herself. 

So Rowan, tell me. Who exactly are you? That was the question a cynical, almost daring voice posed to her as she allowed herself to disappear into her mind.  When had she changed? Where along the line had Feyther planted herself into her own body? Rowan had discovered a few things already on these daily runs along the beach. Deep inside she was still the witty, boyish girl she had always been. Enjoying playfully sarcastic banter, refusing to allow her gender or height to be used against her. But she also liked some of the changes. She was still shy, inquisitive, calm to a certain point. 

Frustrated suddenly by today's thoughts not advancing she slammed her hooves into the sand. Creating deep trails where she dug herself into the ground. Whipping her tail and sighing harshly before turning and wading into the waters. Perhaps today would be better off used as a relaxer. Not delving too deep into her mind. Ice filled her veins as she continued to her knees, glittering flaxen banner drifting on the waves that tugged at it insistently. 

For one day, she didn't want to think. 



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#2

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

He had wandered far in his brief time in these lands. It seemed like only yesterday that he had trekked through the mountains, reuniting briefly with his brother before going their separate ways again. They had decided to settle within the borders of this land - Helovia, it was called, yes, that was it - and, as such, it was Quilyan's duty to explore the mares of the realm. Or, at least, he took it as his duty. And so he had wandered, meeting that interesting mare Orinthia in the Heavenly Meadow. She was an oddity, in his so carefully structured world, refusing to bow to his superior position (or not, anymore, he reminded himself), instead plaguing him with questions about his life and his homeland.

She hadn't been so bad, he supposed, but women were supposed to answer the questions, not ask them. And they were supposed to answer to his beck and call. He wondered if all the faes in this land were going to be like Orinthia. She had posed a challenge, and he did quite love a challenge - but he also missed the ease with which he could gain a female companion back home. He sighed wistfully. Yes, times had been much easier there. And the femmes had been prettier. He laughed, remembering one of his favorites - a petite mare with a snowy white complexion, just an equine, not royalty. But her emerald eyes had always smiled, and she had laughed at his stories when they spent time together. He had never loved, but he had liked her quite a bit. He wondered if she had escaped the revolt alive.

He found himself today on a quaint little beach, one that he had visited briefly with his brother, when they had run into a band of pirates. He wasn't sure that he wanted to join them - after all, he was royalty, and so he ought to be in charge. But perhaps it would be good. And they wanted to nab females. He was all for that. A brisk wind whipped his bi-colored mane as he trotted easily down the shoreline. He stayed close enough to the water that his hoofprints were washed away by each additional wave. It was easier to move in the hard-packed sand at water's edge than it was in the dunes. He could have flown, he supposed, but for some reason, he continued on foot.

Ahead of him, a figure appeared. The winds carried the scent to him; a female. A smile crossed his maw and he continued on his path. He watched with interest as she slammed to stop, seemingly frustrated (though he supposed she could just be doing it for fun, if she was one of these strange Helovian females). Growing closer, he took in her sorrel pelt, her pale banner. She had a nice coloration, and though he couldn't yet see her face, he was interested. But then, he was interested in every female that walked by. "Hello, fair maiden!" he called cheerfully, kindly warning her of his presence lest she want him to go away.


[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#3



Every thought had been methodically silenced as the cold waters splashed against her legs. What was there to think of? Since the day she'd watched Feyther pass away Rowan had been wandering. Trying to find her own life. Her mother had been a weary woman with perpetually sorrowful sea foam eyes. Rowan never did find out why her father abandoned them. Was it abandoned? Had he died? Simply left? Her mother had never spoken of him. Rowan didn't even know his name. Were all men that way? If she ever fell in love, would she be like her mother? Or like Feyther, who had been faithful to her mate for nearly seventeen years before his untimely death? And why was love taking up her mind all of a sudden? She knew of Cassiopeia's family, and was envious of her beautiful if hectic life. There was no point dwelling on her own lonely life, especially after all the progress she'd made. 

Laughing softly to herself she let the thoughts slip away. Even if she hadn't they would have been broken by the calling of a voice both distinctively male and curious. Rowan turned her chocolate face to him, blonde curls sweeping over deep oceanic eyes as she studied the handsome stallion standing on the beach. A little flustered by the name he had called her. Fair maiden. Changing her direction she trotted to him in that distinctive way belonging only to her breed. "Hello to you as well, kind sir. Though I am doubtful I am any fair maiden." Shy smile glowed on her face as she said this. Rowan doubted she was anything but plain, especially when compared to those living in Helovia. Beautiful and striking colors she had never seen before. As she approached she flicked the water from the tip of her plume, the hairs curling even further from the influence of the substance. "I'm Rowan. May I venture as to ask your name?" Head tilting minutely in curiosity, listeners trained on the stallion for any words he may say. 



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#4

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

She was distinctive, this one. It was odd, how those he had met in this land stood out so starkly in his memory, as opposed to the nameless, faceless damsels of his past. He wondered if even the Helovian faes would blend together, given time - doubtless it would be so. After all, had he not known their names once, the girls back home? Had he not been bewitched by all races, all colors, be it by their personalities (though they were oddly lacking comparing to the mares here), or by their eyes, so widely varied, so interesting to lose oneself in, if only for a night. Or by any number of features. He had never though himself in love, no; he had resisted the thought, knowing that he would not be permitted to love, he would be married off to some stuck-up, high-born fae. They would not be happy together, but they would be required to remain faithful to one another. Such was the sacrifice of kings.

And now, it was a habit; he did not have feelings for mares, he did not allow himself to become entangled in emotions. It was so easy to just be kind to them, use them if they proved willing. If they fell for him, well, it was sorrowful for them, but he like as not wouldn't notice. It was just his way. He was not the best of stallions, he would be the first to admit, but he was polite, and he was kind. He would never force anything on anyone, preferring his subjects willing. Besides, he was above rape, royalty as he was. It was wrong, it was disgusting, and it was for the commoners to answer for. Even so, he would not make a good mate, not with the wandering habits that he had.

But back to the fae before him. She moved with a certain grace that was... different from most horses. It was very pretty, particularly with her flaxen banner streaming like that. He smiled kindly at her approach, reveling for a moment in her presence. Of course, he thought every mare was beautiful, always managing to find at least one positive trait. Nonetheless, he would not be lying when he began to shower her with compliments. "Hello to you as well, kind sir," she said, and he liked the way her voice sounded. "Though I am doubtful I am any fair maiden." She smiled shyly, and he was pleased with himself. He really did like to see femmes happy.

"Mistress Rowan," he said, addressing her with the title of respect given to the mares of his realm, "Your humble response is most becoming, but I assure you, you are indeed a fair maiden." He smiled at her, his eyes kind. He may be a womanizer, but at least he was nice about it. "My name is Quilyan, of a faraway land that you like as not have never heard of." It is a good-natured response. "May I walk with you, m'lady?"

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#5



The days were marked not by the passing of the sun for the blonde maned fae. Her days were not filled with the chatting of friends or physical duties. Her job as a scholar was to know. And to know, one had to discover. Explore. Seek answers. Much of this happened on her own time, in complete solitude. So instead she marked the hours by what she achieved and learned. Storing it all into her photographic mind, filing away questions for when she would next see her mentor. It felt nice to say that. Her mentor. She had a place now. Someone to look over her willingly, who only wanted the best for her. It was...nice. Rowan really didn't have people to love her, even friends, and was starved for attention even if it flustered her at times.

So the handsome paint calling her a fair maiden was quite strange to her, and made her shyness come to the surface. There was no denying he was handsome, voice strong but gentle. Eyes were kind and smile only brightened his face further to her. Calling her mistress and she angled her head a bit to the side, shy smile hidden slightly. Looking up at him through the curls of flaxen blonde that caressed her face. "Thank you, you are far too kind sir. I have never been complimented in such a way. It makes me quite happy, whether I see what you do or not." Inherently soft voice sincere as she said it. He introduced himself as Quilyan, and she stored the name away as he spoke. A soft laugh escaped her and she nodded to his proposal. "Of course you may, Quilyan. Perhaps while we walk, you will tell me of this distant land?" Interest sparkled in her eyes as she turned and started down the beach for their walk. Waiting for him patiently, interest thoroughly captured by him and his charming ways. 



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#6

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

She was shy, and it appealed to him. Sure, he enjoyed the challenge of a fiery mare as much as the next stallion, but there was something infinitely more alluring about the demure ones. And, in a way, didn't one have to work even harder for their affections? They were quiet, most often intelligent creatures who would not be won over by jokes and flirtations (though they most certainly did not hurt!) and instead would enjoy compliments from a gentleman. And oh, yes, he could act the part.

"Thank you, you are far too kind sir. I have never been complimented in such a way. It makes me quite happy, whether I see what you do or not." Her vocals were quiet, and kind, a pleasant melody that gently caressed his lobes. Well, perhaps he would not seek to win her over - after all, such innocence ought not be corrupted. And he would not trick her into thinking he held feelings for her (though of course this was looking quite far into the future). That would be doing her an injustice, and Quilyan was nothing if not just. "Of course you may, Quilyan. Perhaps while we walk, you will tell me of this distant land?"

"I'm afraid there is not much to tell, m'lady," he admitted. "I come from a land called [____________]. It was not dissimilar to Helovia, in the varied landscapes. We had mountains far taller than those I have seen here, and in the mountains we had waterfalls that fell for miles. It thundered and roared like nothing you have ever seen." He smiled at the memory. "Mountains gave way to the foothills, and then the prairie, and that stretched on as far as the eye could see from the ground; from the air, you could only just see the ocean to the south and east, and land to the west. The sea was the purest blue you could imagine, and when you flew low to the surface, you could see multicolored fish along great reefs, and sometimes you could even fly with dolphins.

"The western lands were the outskirts, for the mountains and the ocean shaped the peninsula that was [____________]. Our lore says that the Earth God pulled the mountains from the depths of the earth to protect us from invaders to the north; and the Moon Goddess called the seas to lap at our east and south to provide beauty to the land. We had a rainy season once a year, when the Water Goddess would coax the rivers to flow as no rivers you've ever seen; but then the Sun God would send the clouds from the sky, and favor us with warm weather. My land was steeped in tradition and religion, and it was something our rulers strictly adhered to."

He did not mention that he was a ruler-to-be. But he certainly did not mind talking to one interested. He could talk for hours, given the chance, another reason why he preferred quiet mares, who might look upon him adoringly as he spoke to them. Or at least they had back home, when he was a prince. Who was to say how Rowan might look at him here?

[OOC | I don't have a name for his land yet! Sorry!]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#7



Warning of lack of information met her ears in the same honey rich voice she'd heard earlier, one that enticed her to listen to whatever it was he wished to say. Knowledge was power to her, and her need for it from this handsome stallion was nearly overwhelming. It was why she had become a Scholar in the first place, unable to deny her true calling. As he spoke, they walked and she listened. Kaleidescope cerulean eyes only leaving his face when she looked to the skies to ponder on what he had said. Never interrupting, pleasant intrigued smile remaining on her visage for the length of his speech. The lore he spoke of was interesting to her, but beautiful all the same. It was a nice tradition to grow up to, and seemed to have been quite a good and stable home for Quilyan. The small smile that played fondly at his lips was almost endearing, had Rowan known him better.

As he finishes the fae takes a few moments to herself, digesting this information. She doesn't believe he has spun a tale filled with false information, nor does she think he would have lied to her in the first place. It's then that she knows she must speak, and when she does a sweet and candid smile rests on her lips. "I'll admit to wishing I could see it. It sounds like a magnificent place." Tone turning a bit wistful as she imagined it. It was...nice. Walking with Quilyan like this, even if he flustered her at times with his compliments. She'd never really known any males at all, except the colts she shut up with her hooves when they teased her about her height. Even then, her adoptive mother had hurried them on past those wandering bands, and Rowan hadn't had any male experience until now, at three years of age. So how was she supposed to know what was and wasn't normal of a male? "Although I think it's wonderful that you remain so steeped in tradition there. How do you find Helovia?" Turning her face to him curiously, half smile still on her face as she posed this question to him.
Think?



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#8

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

"I'll admit to wishing I could see it," she said. "It sounds like a magnificent place."

"It was, indeed, m'lady." he agreed. Magnificent was, in fact, an understatement in his eyes. Their realm had been enormous (which had, coincidentally, been their undoing) and beautiful, with a myriad of ecosystems just teeming with life. For one so seemingly interested in gaining information as Rowan, he had no doubt that she would be enthralled. Would have been, he reminded himself firmly. Not anymore. The effects of anarchy, taught to him by his nursemaid long ago, would be full-fledged by now. It would take generations to return the kingdom to how it once was, if anyone ever stepped up to the plate. Perhaps they would all leave, returning the land to the gods' will. He wondered if he would ever see it again.

No. It was a sad thought, but true.

"Although I think it's wonderful that you remain so steeped in tradition there," she was saying. He turned his lobes in her direction, picking up her gentle tones with a look of interest. "How do you find Helovia?" He pondered the question for a moment. How best to answer? Truthfully, to be sure, but what was his honest reply?

"Well, Mistress Rowan," he replied thoughtfully. "I haven't seen very much of Helovia; in fact, I have met only one other than you." He offered a smile. "I should hate to inform you wrongly, so perhaps that is a question for another day." It was a very subtle hint that he should see her again, after their walk; if she returned the favor, then perhaps he had found at least one interesting mare here. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me of the lands here?"

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#9



Dreaming of mysterious places beyond the borders of Helovia seemed something only fillies took part in, but Rowan pondered over it for different reasons. The thirst for knowledge, in her case, was never quenched. If she could have her way she would abandon all social norm and dictations and simply fire questions at Quilyan. However she was better at control than that, and actually enjoyed the company that Quilyan provided. Therefore she restrained herself and instead settled into the comfortable if sparse conversation they were having. It was…nice. To walk along the beach with a gentleman, let the worries and toils of the day wash off her back with every word he spoke to her. With every gentle breeze that played with her blonde locks. So different from the nearly oppressive heat of the Throat, and a stallion of a completely different breed than she was used to. Ricochet had seemed to be childish, a power monger. He’d instilled a deep curiosity inside her though, one that wasn’t sated as he’d been run off. Sandman was a gentleman, but very strange. He’d gone quiet and seemed almost pained, angry before he’d turned and simply left her presence. Perhaps she just had bad luck with stallions?

However one word caught her attention. Was. Implying past tense. The destruction or ruination of something. Yet, he seemed upset at the thought. At that one tiny word. Rowan was dying with curiosity and it most likely showed, but she respectfully kept her mouth closed. If bad memories were tied with it, it was not her place to ask. Again with the Mistress Rowan. Crown turned shyly away from him, flustered by the title. She didn’t know how to handle stallions; they were completely alien to her. How in the world was she supposed to reply to that? Was it a normal thing or just something Quilyan did? Oh Gods, even more questions to store away. The implication of another meeting had her returning his smile modestly. ”It is a beautiful place, I encourage you to explore. Perhaps once you have acquainted yourself more with the inhabitants, I can ask again.” Returning the hint, but a bit firmer than he had. It was a tad bit more obvious in her words, but she was not embarrassed by it. Wait, was she supposed to be? Social norms of mares confused her quite a lot. Was it really so bad to make it sound like she wanted to meet him again? He was truly nice, and she felt rather…feminine around him. An experience she wanted to fully examine, but couldn’t when she was unable to create the feeling herself. Ah, the lands. Now that was a subject Rowan knew quite well. Deep sapphire orbs turned skyward again, as they always did in thought. ”Well, there are the Wilds and the Herd lands. The wilds vary, mostly through climate. Where we stand is warmest, though Helovia is usually composed of forests and various bogs. Though those aren’t as common. We have good access to water no matter where we go.” Deciding to inform him of the lands she knew best. Of course she had not explored every inch, but travels and explorations were quite common. Word traveled in strange ways. ”Then there are the Herds. Far north, the Unicorns in the Aurora Basin created, I believe, by the Time God. Past the cold lands of the Steppe, though I’m guessing there’s heat of some sort to help them survive. My home, the far south, is the Dragon’s Throat. Desert surrounding a large lake and oasis. North East to us is the Windtossed Foothills. I don’t know much about them, they’re very quiet. Heavily wooded, protected from cold weather by the mountains. Very green. North West is the World’s Edge, followers of the Moon Goddess. Wooded as well, but formed directly next to a sheer cliff off the see. Misted rather heavily.” Going with the basic geographic information instead of things such as alliances, rumors, blood stains. If he wanted that, all he had to do was ask. It was all there, stored inside her mind.



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#10

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

She returned his sentiments, and he smiled. Perhaps she was not so shy as she pretended to be. He wondered what kind of mare Rowan was. Of course, he had met his fair share: the shameless flirts (well, that was being kind), the shy damsels, the stubborn independents... the list went on. But still, he could not place Rowan in any of his neat little categories, could not tuck her into one of the many organizational boxes in his mind. For one so un-scholarly, he kept his mind very well-trained. It had been a trick that his nursemaid had taught him, and it often made him seem considerably more well-learned than he was. He hadn't the patience for learning, for searching.

But she did. He listened carefully as she described the lands. He was intrigued by the fact that she listed them geographically, as though describing a map to him. It was much as he had talked of his own land, and he smiled at the familiarity. It was interesting that she did not gush about her favorite places or seem to favor any area over the other; instead, she seemed to want to give him a fair, well-rounded view of the lands. He appreciated it, and filed his newly-made mental map away in his memory. It might come in handy later - particularly if he went to find her again.

He had taken note of the curiosity in her gaze, and from her words he could tell that she was an intellectual. He liked her well enough, though he had placed her into a very small category of females that he did not feel the need to flirt with. Instead of trying to win her over, he felt that he could have an actual conversation with her (admittedly something that he tried to avoid with most mares). It never occurred to him that he might like a female with which he could do both. "Mistress Rowan, though you are very well-versed in the geography of your land, I sense that you are much more interested in mine. Is it knowledge that you seek?"

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#11



What a curious day, to have come out seeking herself and found a stallion she could hold a rather pleasant conversation with. He was far different from Sandman and Ricochet, who had been almost brutish and dreadfully underdeveloped in her eyes. She had learned quite a lot since that meeting and finally saw what innocence had once clouded her mind from. Quilyan, on the other hand, was not only far more respectful but intelligent and well-versed. He was a good conversationalist, and quite sneaky in an endearing way with how he could slip small compliments into his words. Rowan wasn't one to take compliments, far too modest to ever think of herself as more than a plain scholar that was more attracted to the mind than the body. She believed that, in return, she had been constructed in the plainest fashion. If she had been gifted with knowledge, then it was too much to ask for to be beautiful as well.

Her recollection of the internal map in her head was not as detailed as she could have gone. She remembered every landmark she'd been told of, knew of the weather patterns and changes. The slopes, the valleys, the waterways. Everything was carefully recorded in her mind. There was the flat map she viewed most often, with borders surrounding each separate area and highlighted where the borders of herds ran. There was the elevation map that had taken much longer for her to construct, as she'd had to explore many areas herself. If you hadn't figured it out already, Rowan had a photographic memory and could take information and form it into an image she could see clearly in her mind. This was something she hadn't admitted to Cassiopeia, too embarrassed of the gift she'd been given. After all, what use would it be to her in the future? Although, even dumbing it down to the best of her ability Quilyan seemed to sense that she was far more interested in the geography of his land. Shy, sheepish smile came to her face. "I'm very sorry, Quilyan. It is impossible for me to deny. I am a Scholar, I study beneath the Oracle of my herd. I...I make a type of map within my mind, using information you give me. It's like having a constant thirst for knowledge, and it has driven many away from me I'm afraid. My apologies if my conversational skills dwindle for a few moments because of it, you do not deserve it." Sincerely apologetic, face showing it clearly.



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#12

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.


She is an interesting mare, this Rowan. He envied her, actually. What he would give to have a map in his mind, just there for the taking! To be able to pinpoint places that he had never been, to be able to see things he had never seen... it would give one a certain freedom, would it not? He was sure of it, and pricked lobes show his interest. He has never heard of such an ability, such a power, if that was even what he should call it. Was it god-given? Or was it simply a natural occurrence? Was she equally as talented in other areas? What else could she remember? So many questions, but she is the scholar, isn't she? And it's her job to ask questions, not his.

Still, he cannot help himself. With a smile, he speaks: "Mistress Rowan, please, do not think to apologize for such a talent!" He pauses, organizes his thoughts. "If I had the desire for knowledge that is so dear to you, why, I would be simply obnoxious. You have proven quite the opposite. In fact, it would be my pleasure to answer any questions you might have of me." It is truth, for he wishes to speak more to this skillful fae, to get to know her, despite her shy demeanor. He suspects that there is much more to her than that, that her persona is a much deeper one that she might let on. Perhaps she is unaware - but he has a talent for these things. And he rather enjoys her company.

"But, before you begin your interrogation -" a smile to show he is joking "- if I might have a few answers of my own? This map of yours - how accurate is it? You can make it even when you've never been somewhere before? I would imagine it is highly dependent on the description you're given, isn't that right, m'lady? So, then, given your druthers, you would rather speak with one with a well-versed repertoire of locations and distances, yes?" It is pure curiosity, a half-musing ramble of thoughts. His questions are one after the other, and it is almost as though he is merely thinking aloud. Still, he awaits her answers with a keen interest in his orbs, and hopes that she will ask more of him as well.

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com

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Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#13



Rowan is pleased to say in that moment she was surprised by the fact that Quilyan not only didn't judge her, but praised her for having such a talent! Rowan had never known anything else, though she knew now that not all people had her ability. In fact she had never encountered any others like her, which was a bit saddening. So used to being called a freak, she had started hating her abilities long ago, so Quilyan's praise was shocking to her. Pleasure lights up her face and she was eager to question him in the near future, now that he had allowed her free reign. The sketchy outline she had of his land was driving her crazy already, despite only hearing about it moments ago.

She shares in his smile, showing how thankful she is that he has not damned her for what many consider a gift of the devil. Another reason she had gotten into fights with the other foals, other than her height and strange way of speaking and looking at the world. Normally she would be wary of such questions from someone, fearing they would use her, but she does not get that vibe from Quilyan. "I would be happy to answer your questions, it is rare that anyone shows positive interest in it," she unknowingly admitted, face glowing with happiness that should not be so vibrant. It is almost pathetic. Rowan considered his words carefully before she answered, wanting to give him the best explanation she could. "In order to tell you the accuracy, I must give you a scenario. Say I visit Thistle Meadow. I open my eyes and take one long look at the scenery. I close my eyes and return to my home without opening them. Even if I wait weeks, I will be able to pull up that image and remember every flower in detail, will see in my head the number of pedals, the color, how many flowers there were. I will remember everything I saw in vivid detail. None of it ever changes, and the memory never disappears that I know of." Every photo was still in perfect condition in her mind. That's why Rowan remembered her real mother so clearly, for none of them ever seemed to be erased. Rowan didn't understand when people said they were 'drawing a blank' or couldn't remember something, for she had never experienced it. This was what made her a borderline sociopath at times, ruled by her mind and not by her heart. It was depressing to her, but she didn't linger on it long, never knowing how to go about dealing with those tricky emotions.

Next question. "Yes, I can create maps with input from others without ever stepping into that place. And you are correct, for if they do not remember well I will have blanks, in a way, on my map. Furthermore to answer your question, yes. Speaking with someone well-versed in the land and with a decent memory is the best, for I can create a more stable image." Smiling she stopped for a moment and turned to him. His handsomeness did not strike her so much now that she had gotten used to it, and she was far more intrigued by his personality and mind than his looks. He was...interesting. Normally people like him would make her shy and run away, but he was open and convincing, making her stay like a curious wild animal unable to keep itself from the lure of affection and friendship. "Of Helovia, I have multiple maps. Flat boundary maps, elevation maps, seasonal and weather maps. I can flip between them in moments, even create them so that they are tangible and have depth in my mind. It is not only maps, Quilyan. In two years, should I desire, I can remember every inch of your face. I can count how many times the waves hit the shore during our meeting, for my mind is always recording things whether I am aware of them or not, and I can revisit them once I am gone. I will recount every word you said, how many breaths and steps you took. It is a blessing and a curse, though many damn me for having such a...talent, as you say. I am not used to someone finding it a gift, and I rarely speak of it for fear of being judged for it. So for that, I must thank you," she said gently, eyes soft and full of gratitude she didn't know existed. Rowan was glad she had met him, for he was a wonderful person to converse with, and she truly enjoyed his presence. Perhaps, maybe...if she was very lucky, he would become her friend. Her second friend, for she only truly had one. Rowan was deeply lonely, used to being shunned for seeming robotic and alien. But she also had a deep stubborn side and a fire that burned only on rare occasions, such as Tribute's appearance in the Throat when she had been ready to kill him on the spot. Rowan had a lot of layers, if one cared enough to discover them all.



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#14

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.


Her smile is a pleasant sight, and seems to be rarely given, making it all the more worthwhile. She launches into speech, telling him of her gift. She begins with a story, and he listens intently as she describes how she will recall their meeting once it is done. The possibilities for one with her gift truly are endless, he realizes, awestruck. To be able to count the breaths one takes? The steps they leave behind? To remember in excruciating detail the beauty of the flowers, the location of each stone, the expressions upon her face... why, if he had such a gift, he would have no trouble recalling the mares he had flirted with so long ago (was it really so long?) or... the faces of his parents...

The thought sobers him, and he focuses once more on her words, shoving the memories to the back of his mind. If he had the brainpower that Rowan possessed, would he be able to get rid of the memories? Seal them off so that they ceased to haunt him? Place them in a neat little box in the recesses of his mind to collect dust? He cannot ask this, and it is not because he thinks she will not answer, but because he cannot find the words. How would he find out without revealing and, thus, reliving his exile? And then she thanks him, drawing a surprised laugh from his maw.

"Mistress Rowan, you are a fascinating mare," he told her, amusement in his violet eyes. "I cannot imagine that others would not think as much. For that, I am truly sorry. They do not deserve the blessing of your company." His tone is joking, but his eyes are truthful, almost indignant. Why in the world would they treat the femme with less respect simply because she was smarter than they were? Stupidity at its finest, he thought wryly. "But that is neither here nor there, I suppose. What would you like to know of my lands, m'lady?"

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com

Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#15



Intently he hangs on her words, though why he does it she is still debating in the controlled chaos of her mind. Is he interested in what he considers a talent, an ability? Does he desire it for himself, despite the fact it is not something passed from one to another? Rowan was wary, but intrigued. All others she had encountered were intimidated, disgusted, or disbelieving. His actions were foreign and alien, leaving her floundering in the void of black called obliviousness. It was rare she ever felt this particular emotion, and it was not pleasant to her. Emotions were her weakness, her mortal enemy- her kryptonite. His suddenly serious expression does not go unnoticed, but does go unquestioned. More than anyone, Rowan knows the importance of privacy, and the intimacy needed to breach it. Face remains passive if slightly interested, respecting him enough to not succumb to her sociopathic tendencies. Barraging him with questions wasn’t acceptable, in this case.

Laughter makes her shy, wondering where the bold speech and word count had come from. She hardly opened her maw to speak, unless she was saying something that would get her into a fight from her lack of knowledge on emotions or was asking a question. Whatever it was that had driven her to speak so much about her…gift, as he said, she did not know. She has never been called fascinating. Cannot, in fact, deduce how exactly he came to that conclusion about her personality. Does a machine even have a personality? Despite the fact she lives and breathes, can she truly be called a person? Is she capable of claiming a soul, a personality at all? Was she blessed with the mind of a machine, and in return given a heart of metal, incapable of feeling at all? Even so she manages a shy, thankful smile in his direction. Truly he is kind to think she is worthy of such gentle nature from others, that she can reciprocate in any fashion. His offer is one that allows her free reign, and inside she laughs for it is a foolish decision. Giving her mind freedom is like setting a potentially dangerous runaway train into motion. Once started it’s hard to stop, but she knows this and limits herself before it actually happens. Giving herself boundaries even if Quilyan hasn’t. ”All the questions in the world couldn’t give me a firsthand experience, but that is inevitable. However I won’t assault you with all the ones on my mind,” she giggled, feeling small and young in his presence. Never before had she been praised, actually listened to, and it made her entire being slowly warm up. It was entirely new to her, but not necessarily unpleasant. ”Instead…can you tell me everything you remember of one special place? Memories with emotions and experiences tied to them often remain in our minds the longest and with the most detail,” Rowan explained, almost sheepishly. Hoping to the Gods she wasn’t boring him. It was like giving attention to a child starved of it; Rowan was helpless to stay away from someone who actually found her company pleasant because of her mind. Because of her, in any way, shape, or form.



Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#16

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.


One specific place.

Her request, no, the situation, may be odd, but he is at ease. He frowns slightly, not out of unhappiness, but out of thoughtfulness. Did he have a special place, back home? He supposed he could describe the city, the castle, but that was rather large and difficult, with many different aspects. And he could, perhaps, speak of one of the smaller citadels, some of the lords that had been friends of the family, whose keeps he knew as well as his own. He could even describe specific rooms to her, rooms that when he closed his eyes, he could still picture them in perfect detail. Unlike Rowan, this gift was one of years of seeing the same things over and over, and he knew that it would fade over time.

But still, none of these are special. And then it comes to him.

"My land was organized into citadels," he begins, needing to tell her of the hierarchy. "My home city was the capital, home to the royal family. The location of my family's domain was very specific. Throughout the realm, there were many areas that my people called 'godswoods.' You see, my people harbor a very strong belief in the gods. The godswoods are areas, sometimes small, sometimes vast, that are populated with massive, multi-colored trees. The red, for example, was a tree of the Sun, the blue a tree of the Water, and so on and so forth. In each godswood, there is only ever one tree of each color, but not every color appears at every godswood.

"The largest godswood stood not far from our castle,"
he continued, not pausing to think that buildings might be a foreign concept here. "There were countless trees there, all of different colors. We were situated on the coast, in the furthest southeastern corner of the realm, and in the woods just west of us, there it was. The colors... you could see them from above, stretching at least a mile in every direction from its center. Even we did not know all of their names. But the real beauty was not from above, it was from below. Imagine, walking through a forest, covered in a kaleidoscope of dapples. All different colors playing across your pelt, casting shadows in the most brilliant hues you can imagine. And the trunks of the great Trees, they were the most wonderful of all. You see, the trunks grew in such a way that they appeared to have faces, both beautiful and terrible at the same time. We believed that they were the faces of the gods."

He pauses, lost in remembering. "No two faces were the same in a godswood, and yet... the same faces appeared on the same trees in each godswood. Perhaps the gods themselves carved their likenesses into the trees... but we cannot be sure about that." A wry smile crosses his maw. "The major citadels were built to be near the godswoods, of which there were twelve. I haven't seen anything like them in any realm between Helovia and Thor'qui."

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com

Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

Rowan Posts: 76
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: 3 Years 4 Months
Brit
#17



There is a frown playing at his lips, but Rowan does not delve into it, though she wishes to. She always wishes to. Yet she can't, for she has never understood emotions. They are chemicals in the brain, such simple science, and yet she could not understand how they were so finnicky and flighty. It troubled her, made her want to scream and throw her head against a rock until she could think no more. She felt that way quite a lot, actually. So when she saw it she changed her line of sight to the horizon, knowing it would drive her insane trying to figure out how he was feeling. A weight fell in her chest, settling there until she could hardly breathe. You are a freak Rowan. You know that, no matter what he says. You might as well just disappear. You were better off alone, so why did you seek out others? They will never accept you.

Thankfully it is then that he begins to speak, and she is snapped out of her thoughts. Rowan chided herself internally for letting her internal musings go so black- it is always dangerous for her to do that, for her mind is a machine that has no problem tearing apart its container, for that is what it does best. Dissect. And it will one day dissect her until there is nothing left but agony, and she will take her own life. Rowan hopes she dies of age before that happens. He speaks, and she listens. That was always how the world worked for her. He did not tell her what she desired; directions, paces, lengths. Even so she imagined it as vividly as she could in her head given what he said. It was imperfect and always would be, but at least it was something to sate her mind. It would do, and so she did not interrupt.

Though she did have to admit that Quilyan definitely had a way with words. He may not give her information, but he spun a world around her that was full of color that was normally out of her reach. It was not something she could dissect, having not seen it, and her eyes took on a look of awe as she gazed at him, trapped in the bubble his words had created. Only once his speech ended did she finally find the wherewithal to look away and contemplate his words. "It is not a stretch of my imagination to know that it was likely a very beautiful place. I am sure Helovia does not match up to its splendor," she laughed softly, the closest she could come to a joke or tease. "Thank you for telling me, Quilyan, you did not have to entertain me in such a way and yet you did. Truly, you have my thanks, as well as my word that I would have loved to have seen it." It was a silly thing to think, she knew she would never see it and that was why she used past tense. In a past time, or if an opening ever did appear, she certainly wished to see these faces he had spoken of. But she did not hail from a beautiful world, and could not understand. She had lived in a landscape filled with sand and rock, hardly any vegetation. All it was, all around, was sand and sky and heat. It was an ugly place, but she guessed that they all had dark things in their past no matter how beautiful the place.

[[God so sorry for how late this is! Rowan ran away from me muse-wise]]




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