the Rift


Mistress Necrosis { Open }

October Posts: 40
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years
Blu
#1

October had vanished yet again, isolating herself and retreating into the solitude of her own mind. Off to play with corpses whom she interacted with better than any living souls…save for her sire of course. October ambled gracefully into the Threshold, giving her an intense sense of déjà vu as she slipped nimbly through the trees. It reminded her of the Gateway in Anarore. However she knew this time Sinn would not be there to greet her, that Xenos Yaro was probably nothing more than a pile of bones yet again in some bog somewhere. These realizations aggrieved the wicked femme as she wandered silently through the forest yet no sign of the inner turmoil was present upon her jack-o-lantern façade. October felt as if she were destroying her father’s legacy with her lack of action towards attaining greatness in his name. Oblivion had been the Demon King, a dignified czar, and she had been nothing more than a deformed puppeteer quaking in his ominous shadow.

Oh how she missed that shadow.

The unanticipated snap of a petrified branch beneath October’s lithe piston triggered her immediate halt and caused her horns to lay flat against her somber crania as October lowered her dome to peruse through the breaks in the tree trunks for any sign of life. Everything is so much simpler when its dead. A lurid snort was expelled from the witch as she realized that she was indeed alone, much to her reprieve. The sun’s rays reflected unpleasantly upon her charcoal hide and October took notice, once the pools of perspiration began to coagulate precariously upon her skin, of how terribly hot it was. She loathed sweating, detested having to exert herself unless absolutely necessary. October craved a dark niche to find solace in from the heat and instantly began her hunt for shade. Even though the sun was going down, preparing itself to repose for the night, it was summer and the ferocity of the god star was at its peak. October was no fan of the dog days.

After a few minutes of questing for a decent haven from the sweltering sights of the ochre soleil October finally came upon a rather intriguing gnarling of vines, dead trees and other random debris that formed a citadel of darkness, it was perfect. Picking up her pace only moderately she made it to the sanctuary rather quickly and began to search it for some form of an entrance, hoping she wouldn’t have to force her way through. The last thing October sought was to mar her gorgeous physique on some silly, diminutive, bloodthirsty twigs. Auspiciously she came across a hole in the flank of the fort and, though it was not to her liking in size, managed to make her way into the belly of the heap with hardly a scratch on her. October’s grey tassel twitched at her haunches as she explored her new residence, for the time being that is, and watched a centipede weave itself in an out of a decrepit log. Her orange chasms traveled over the ground curiously as an intense odor invaded her nostrils, a familiar smell; it was the stench of death.

The sun shone through only a couple cracks in the ceiling but it provided enough light for October to make out the cadaver of an insignificant mammal that bizarrely enough still looked as if it were moving. Taking small steps forward it became apparent as she drew closer that the illusion of movement was only caused by a tremendous quantity of maggots as they ingested the remains of what seemed to have previously been a fox. Chuckling October concentrated for but a second to allow her magic to flow through the fox’s corpse before her marionette antics began. Compelling the little creature to stand and shake itself off October watched as maggots were flung in a variety of directions, much to her amusement. Forcing the fox to sit and regard her with cold, unseeing eyes October grinned as some of the remaining maggots crawled within its eye sockets and, now panting, mouth. It was a disgusting spectacle but one that brought comfort to October and so she spoke to it, with a motherly tone to her sensual voice.

“Well aren’t you cute? Did those mean old maggots eat you? Shame on them…”

Her smile grew wider as she talked to the bantam beast, her fondness for the deceased ever obvious. October could feel the relief of her flesh in this refuge and decided she would wait here, with her new friend, until the sun had fled to the other side of the earth. Then she would continue her journey to nowhere.

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Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

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

Slaiter
Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.
-H.P. Lovecraft



A slinking, dark form makes it's way through the shadows of the forest, haunting the woods like a ghost. It was rare for the ghoul to leave the dim safety of his swamp home, dwelling among the countless corpses that littered the dank pools of water and lay buried under thick, stinking muck. The pale filtered light there made everything indistinct, all soft edges and blurred outlines until it could make one crazy, were they not used to it. Here, though, the fierce sun glared into his dark eyes, making him blind and clumsy. He wouldn't have ventured out, were it not for the angel and his demon bird. The bird hadn't been bad, simply sitting quietly and emitting the occasional hiss, but the painted winged monster had cut through his security, dragged him out of his hiding spot and asked questions. Long, slithering tail waves behind him in agitation, the imitation of some great snake moving restlessly through the underbrush.

A comforting scent hits his black muzzle, and he draws it in eagerly, inhaling deeply to identify this particular flavor. Fox, he decides, not dead for too long, only about a week or so. Legs are lifted high in an excited prance, the soothing odor of death drawing him forward at a trot. His swamp friends are nice, but mostly made up of horses. He wanted something different, like his beloved deer Mira. The reddish canine would make a nice addition, and maybe he could find something else while he was out here. But what else did he want? Rabbit? Or a raccoon, they were always fun. Yes, he'd have to find a raccoon after picking up the fox, and then he could take them home and they could all be friends!

Delight turns quickly to confusion as he comes to the odd jumble of foresty stuff. How was he supposed to get in there? Could he push his way through it? His simple mind doesn't think to look for an opening on the other side of the massive pile, seeing only that his way to his 'friend' is blocked. Experimentally, he probes the mess with his sharp horn, pushing through small chinks that enlarge slightly as twigs and vines are displaced. Inspired, he withdraws, only to whirl around and kick out. He could make this annoying thing fall down! Then he would just have to paw through the debris until he found his fox! A childish smile appears on his ghastly features at the thought, and he redoubles his effort, determined to bring the whole pile crashing down.




October Posts: 40
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years
Blu
#3

The destruction of her haven was neither expected nor welcomed in the slightest. As the structure of October’s temporary abode began to quake she ceased her little chat with her novel associate and glanced about the disintegrating fortress with a malevolent wrath dwelling in her voids. As the walls began to sway and crumble October searched urgently for the hole in the vines from which she had entered previously, hoping now it could provide her with a hasty exit. Much to her relief October found the archway again amongst the dying foliage. Instantly she sprung through it and out into the blistering heat once more, her zombie pet trailing behind her. As soon as she was liberated from the belly of the doomed refuge October halted to catch her breath before her homicidal onslaught ensued. Turning her skull to survey the damage that had been done to her exquisite physique October let a low growl escape her as she beheld the few cuts that marred her charcoal hide and the mess of thorns and other debris that had tangled themselves within her silken tendrils. Whomever had caused her this distress was going to suffer, and substantially.

Letting her orange pits travel from her tarnished cadaver October sought the culprit of her ire. Watching as her earthen citadel collapsed and became a useless pile of dregs she glared around and finally set eyes on a rather sickly hued beast with his horn tangled up in her former sanctuary. Her grey banner flicked at her rear out of displeasure as she pondered what her best course of action should be. Many ideas flooded her mind, mostly involving ripping the bastard’s throat out for his crimes against her, but having no desire to deal with the mess she had to think of something…cleaner. The decrepit fox stood beside her. Its hackles, or what remained of them, were raised aggressively as it too snarled at the mold stained brute. Leisurely October turned, her crania held level with her lithe bodice, and slowly she slithered her way towards the stag like the serpent she was. Jagged jaws parted and her odium laced feminine vocals were released into the air.

“How dare you! I should murder you! Look at my hide! You will pay for this asshole, mark my words…”

October’s tone was a dull roar as her rage was building and her blood boiling. The fox crept behind her like the puppet it was; ready to do its master’s bidding. However it wouldn’t get the chance. October was already seeking something superior to take its place. She required something more lethal, something that could teach this incompetent son of a bitch a lesson. There had to be a being plenty durable and plenty dead around that could get the job done…but what? October would find her pawn and when she did this unfortunate creature would wish he’d never stuck his horn where it didn’t belong.

{ ooc: sorry about the wait and sorry it sucks so much. }

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Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE
Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud
#4

 The Spy</style>

 Drop past the color; come up through the summer rain.</style>



Ktulu, one of the leader's of the Grey, had instructed the once golden-girl, that her current state of affairs wouldn't be a problem, so long as they didn't infer with her work. But clearly, it hadn't; she had just successfully completed yet another stealth mission, along with Rafe and Apollo, and captured the Lignea Willow, the medic of the Foothills. Even though she was high on the thrill of her success, she knew that being a spy was not her only obligation to the band of mercenaries. No…based on what Ophelia seemed to be scheming, they would need recruits, possibly those who would do better on the fighting side of things, rather than more medics or spies such as herself.

Grumbling, Phae had made her way to the Threshold - rather to be more clear, she walked there. Due to the curse that the Goddess of the Moon had placed on her, the once winged-beauty was unable to fly. Her feathers had moulted and turned grey, a large number of them falling out in patches. She had also lost all of the hair from her mane and tail, as well as several teeth. Her once sooty-palomino coat was now patchy and dull in colour, and her body had caved in on itself making her looks emaciated and severely aged. Still, she would overcome this curse, Gods be damned. She would show that jealous-bitch of a Goddess that she would be triumphant, and would not crumble under the weight of this burden. She would have her magic, and her beauty.

A voice pulled her towards it, and with practised silent steps, Phae made her way closer. Stella, her companion - a secretary bird - flew behind her bonded. Stella was now larger, and had learned to fly in silence, picking up small tips from Phae's mind on how to move quietly. Looking more like a corpse, rather than the golden beauty is once was, Phae's sunken green eyes washed over October without comment. She noted the mare's odd colouring, and her obvious rage at something the spy could not identify - The dishevelled pile of sticks and such? Clearing her throat, having approached the mare from behind, Phae waited until her presence was noticed. She was far slenderer than the darker mare, and shorter as well. Of course this mattered little to Phae; she was a spy, not a fighter after all. And her talents lay with more…delicate tactics. Or at least, they did before this curse, and would again once it had ended.






Won't you sing to me your poetry,
Won't you take me to your home,
Won't you be for me forever
So I'll never be alone

 HP: 45.5

October Posts: 40
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 6.5 years
Blu
#5

October’s audits swiveled atop her dome as they received notice of the entrance of yet another individual. Her crania was raised and nares flared as she dissected the scent of the intruding femme with inquisitiveness before beholding the bitch. Her delicate feminine skull turned slowly from the putrid behemoth, whom had destroyed her momentary haven, to look upon the newcomer with distain. October had expected just another typical being to appear from the trees but was greeted instead with a monster, one that made October’s deformed features gorgeous in comparison. A sly grin twisted her jagged lips as she rotated to observe the jezebel that approached. October’s orange voids narrowed as she let them skim over the hide of the grotesque mare. If she had been able to feel pity October would have been overwhelmed with the emotion now but instead all she felt was extreme intrigue and mild amusement.

Look what the cat dragged in, ate, then shit out all over the carpet. The thought made her chuckle softly as she took a few steps towards the mutilated vixen. The damsel was in a dreadful condition, this was fact, but October had seen far worse in her excursions with the dead so she was hardly put off by the harlot’s disturbing exterior. October’s dark grey appendage flicked at her haunches as she looked down at her decomposing companion for a second before glancing back up at the lass, mutely noting how similar they looked, like two corpses in a coffin they were. The lady didn’t speak a word, perhaps she was unable to, so October took it upon herself to break the silence.

“Well hello there...”

Her grin grew as she stared into the emaciated wench’s sunken orbs. October cocked her crown to the side and watched her, pondering if the zombie like mare was definitely even still living. Her tattered wings and exposed ribs suggested that she was not but the vixen didn’t reek of the deceased, and that was an aroma October was very familiar with. A stench she would have picked up on immediately.

“To think I was convinced I was the only one with the ability to raise the dead. Yet whomever resurrected you is doing a commendable job indeed.”

October had come to the conclusion that the lady was not entirely of zombie classification but conceivably was still of the living dead. She was titillated by the arrival of this curious creature and intended to find out precisely what it was that made her so unfortunate looking. For a minute October had completely forgotten about the demon who had provoked her previously. Now all interest was centered one the withering banshee, a puzzle was to be solved.

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Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE
Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud
#6

 The Spy</style>

 Drop past the color; come up through the summer rain.</style>



You know...this was going slightly better than expected. Given how satanistic this mare appeared to be, Phae actually thought it might be to her advantage that she had lost her golden lustre and inexplicable beauty. Something told her that this mare would not be overly receptive to that sort of look. Well good Phae thought, bitterly hoping that the Goddess was watching somewhere from high above. If she could use this damned curse to her advantage, it was all the better. Anything to try and get back at the Goddess who punished her so cruelly. As she neared, Phae tensed somewhat, knowing that in her condition was in no shape to be fighting. Pregnant and cursed, did not go hand in hand with combat. Even though Phae had won a spar, she was certainly no warrior. Flicking her stump of a tail, her sunken gaze eyed the darker mare curiously as she spoke. Raise the dead? What an interesting skill...Vaguely, Phae wondered if there would be a place in the Grey for sure a remarkable talent. Then again, October didn't necessarily strike her as the follow-the-rules type, and assumed that Ktulu might find her a challenge.

Still....best to play along.

Tilting her head slightly and raising her wrinkled muzzle, Phae nodded. "I'm sure the Goddess of the Moon will be most pleased that you approve of her work." Would citing the goddess have any clout with this mare? Maybe...maybe not. "Waiting in the Threshold must be such a chore..." She began, slinking closer; her bones moving too visibly beneath her shabby coat. "I am...a spy for a mercenary group called the Grey." She muttered, purposefully omitting her name. "And you? Raiser of the dead and damned? Have you a name?"






Won't you sing to me your poetry,
Won't you take me to your home,
Won't you be for me forever
So I'll never be alone

 HP: 45.5


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