the Rift


change your ways while you're young[ktu--phi--joining]

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#1
Loretta’s body lowered to the ground skillfully, like her wolf cousins, and she waited. The young, naïve rabbit that sat chewing on small blades of grass was in for the surprise of its lifetime. Quickly and without a sign, the malamute lunged from the shadows of her bush and pounced on the rabbit, paws holding it to the ground while her powerful jaws delivered a lethal bite that snapped the poor creature’s neck. Prideful, Loretta took her kill in her jaws and trotted back to where her bond mate lay in the softness of red pine needles. Her tail, a banner behind her, waved triumphantly as she dropped the rabbit at the black knight’s white hooves. Archibald let a small smile grace his features as his exuberant malamute began to eat her catch. With a small breath Archibald put his hooves underneath him and lifted his behemoth body to its tallest point. He straightened out his front legs carefully and leaned back some, stretching out his sore body.

Thankfully, the healer Tor had graced him with her presence the day before. Although his wounds were not healed completely, he was able to move freely without wincing in pain or consumed by the overwhelming urge to pass out. Her magic of healing was a wonderful delight to the draft stallion, and he would remember her when she needed aid or protection in the future. She had treated his burns with skill—something that surprised him—and he would probably have to visit her once more if he did not keep them as clean as possible. Loretta helped greatly with that, her tongue a tool against bacteria like her canine genetics wrote in her ancestors.

Archibald rolled his eyes towards the sky as his body adjusted upright once more, and he tilted his crown back to tip his white nose to the sky as if he were going to open his jaws and let loose a howl like the ones Loretta had capability of. However, the Dauntless was not graced with vocal cords able to process howling, merely neighs. ”Ktulu—Ophelia—leaders of The Grey, I call to you now.” Archibald’s voice rumbled out strong and clear, unwavering and confident. Ophelia had promised an alliance, although Ktulu had not taken an intense liking to Archibald during their only meeting. He wondered how the black dun would feel about his request, wondered if Ophelia would acknowledge his existence this time. In the Thistle Meadow, she had acted strange. Archibald’s composed faced tightened with a furrowed brow as he waited, eyes flicking to Loretta to watch her finish her meal.


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Ktulu the Constrictor Posts: 509
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 70.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Eytan :: Grizzly Bear :: Terrorize ali
#2

Nail my soul to the middle of a cross that fills this hole
I never understood the Written Word</style>


Archibald only had to wait several minutes after he called out for the leaders of the Grey for Ktulu to emerge from the forest. When she halted her bear cub did as well and sat obediently at her hooves, his honey colored eyes staying on the malamute. "You've returned." Ktulu said evenly. A part of her had suspected that he would return to the forest and search her out, but she was still mildly surprised that he would after claiming that he could take care of himself.

A quick look over the stallion was all Ktulu needed to know that he had been handed his ass by someone else. "Why are you here?" She asked, wanting to get down to business right away. "The last time you were here and I offered you our services you declined. If I recall correctly you claimed to be able to handle everything on your own, which I will admit was quite believable coming from a warrior of your stature." Her horned head tilted subtly as she continued to study the massive draft.



Credits

Icon by Tay

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#3
Ktulu slunk from the shadows, a phantom in this forest, silently and quickly. Loretta found her first, twisting on her heels to face the dun. Quickly, amber eyes focused on the bear and Loretta lowered her head some, ears pressing forward with interest. Archibald followed suit, and met his golden gaze to the mercenary's crimson one. "The fact that I could handle things on my own does not quench the desire to serve in my heart." Archibald spoke, his tail gently tapping his back legs. Mandrake's firm hand had always instilled a sense of pride in Archibald to be ever dutiful, whether it be to her or something else. His outcasting from the Foothills was not an embarrassment, nor was he truly upset about it. Rank meant nothing; it was the service and loyalty that rang through his mother's heart that Archibald was designed for.

"I would like to join the Grey. When I protected Ophelia and aided in driving out Ricochet she promised that the Grey would be here when I requested--now I request to be able to tell others those same words." Archibald wondered if Ophelia would show up--or even if any of his brothers would show up. He figured that if any of his kin would come it would be Vincent, his twin forever following him with a loyal and fiercely loving heart. His matching behemoth would always be with him, always had been, and Archibald was thankful, if nothing else, for the company and understanding. The black brute had grown so much, emotions he had never encountered before surfacing after he set his bond with Loretta.


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#4



The martyr is alive after having lain dormant for so long, but even with the joy of life he knows he is an abomination. No one should live for so long, no one should return to steal an innocent's body and occupy the hallows of their soul. For looking down Huric knows he is an unnatural occurrence- looking out, seeing further than before, and taking steps in a younger frame, acts as a revelation to him.

And he knows that he has died, because he can still see with frightening clarity the outstretched fingers of fiends clawing out his throat. And in the corner of his mind, lurking, is someone else. He feels sorrow and pain for that lost soul as it wanders; shirks at the sound of its cry in his mind, runs from it as it calls out a familiar name. He feels unnatural and knows he does not belong- tastes blood on his lips and understands that this body has killed, sees the black mutt at his heels and knows he has destroyed something beautiful.

For when Manhattan looks deep into the silver-blue eyes of her master and searches for his mind, she sees a deep pink and hears another's thoughts. Somewhere in the shadows Knox lies alone and tormented, made to suffer by his own foolish decisions to trust a goddess of hatred. His bonded feels pain and his bonded feels loneliness, but she knows better than to leave him free of blame.

In the distance she hears the scuffling of a hunt, and the ears of the stallion perk at the somehow familiar sound of a stranger. Huric sets forth at what once would have been a light trot, only to find himself bulkier and slightly more awkward. The grace of his rose grey figure has long since gone, and is replaced with a more powerful and purposeful stride. Still he subdues it as he enters the clearing from which the call came.

And when she sees her sister, Manhattan rushes forth. It is a foolish act made by a young, concerned pup, but one made nonetheless. She has no interest in Loretta's meal, only in her wisdom. For Manhattan is lost when she looks into her bonded's eyes, and has few places to turn. Knox is gone, she whines to Loretta, placing both paws on her older sister's hindquarter's. He has been cursed by the moon, condemned to lose his mind to those of other's. Help, sister; please, she continues, feeling strangely ashamed to be asking the bitch for help after fighting with her not too long ago.

Fighting and losing, she remembers. But does Huric remember? she wonders. She looks into the blue eyes with red behind and knows he does not. He is empty; someone else, an intruder. And Huric, the eldest brother of his family, looks upon the features of one who should be known to him and shows nothing. With nervous eyes, he turns his gaze to the bear and his master. Not that he fears nature, simply that he respects it, and well enough to keep a distance. With a kind look, one full of knowing, he watches the pair from the shadows before emerging. The stallion has spoken true and well; Huric himself has felt the same obligation to service.

And so with a light and charming voice, he joins the conversation. He does not fear intrusion or rejection; he is blinded by this chance to live again. He feels guilt and regret, but he accepts his situation, and he moves on. He must always move on, as he always has.

"An admirable goal," Huric begins as he sidles up alongside the massive stallion. "Tell me, stranger, he begins with a nod to the mare, who appears to be the one the stallion submits to, "Who are your Grey?" And when he speaks he does not know his own voice, and he knows that he is not who he should be.

knox</style>
Huric</style>

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
#5


Ophelia, memories restored and heart hardened, strode with purpose and drive to the Deep Forest. She had cleaned the mud from her coat and was once more pristine in color, though in soul, the purity if her heart was forever tainted. Dual colored eyes shone with purpose, drive, and she held her neck high. She had made the choice to lead the Grey with good intentions; too right the wrongs against those too weak to protect themselves and to offer a balance. In her absence, she had been too naive to realize the importance of their group, but she was once again reunited with intellect and reason. With her past.

Birdsong was an ill environment for her mood. The birds chirping happily and the shimmering sun only served to grate on her frayed nerves which had yet to heal well enough from her recent emotional trauma. Her sister's figure is the most easily spotted in the distance with a coat so similar to her father's. Paladin was also naive. He believed in equality, and Ophelia realized that sometimes, absolute equality was impossible. The natural way of things is to gravitate to what you know, and faulting anyone for that desire of familiarity is rather silly. Ophelia held no ill will against the unicorns of the Basin except for their show of wanton violence and force. The group was merely a natural formation of an equally natural social drive.

However, being a hybrid meant that she strode a fine line with her cloven hooves and dragon. She belonged nowhere, like most of the Grey. They were misfits and outcasts ill suited for the rest of the world but growing too large for their forest. Already Ophelia could see signs of their hooves trampling the grass, and she frowned, knowing that soon, they must act. However, the question of where was plaguing her mind, as the neutrality of the Grey would be called into question to matter which herd they tried to take over. Serious conversation and even more thought would have to be made in the coming seasons about their future.

Knox. He was blind when he went to the Throat so long ago, and she did not remember him when they met on the beach. Now, he was unmistakable with his dark coat and even more mysterious mannerisms. Something about the stallion was so innate that she could not grasp and understand his personality.

A dove among ravens, Ophelia strode up to the small group, standing beside her sister. "The Grey is a small and rather intimate band of mercenaries, spies and healers, though we just lost our powerful one," she said quietly, though the final words spoken were done so bitterly. "We exist to promote the balance between the massive herds and the individual, though our first and only current contract was from the God of the Earth himself."

Ophelia then turned to her sister. "I will vouch for Archibald and his strengths and abilities. When he did help drive out Ricochet, I was able to see his drive, and I am sure he will be missed in the Foothills. We would be remiss in denying him entrance into our group." The white mare smiled kindly at the tall, black stallion. "I am sorry I did not remember you before. I was... my memories had been removed." Ophelia stiffened at that explanation. Pressing the matter may not be wise.




OPHELIA
Faith shattered and decays as frosted blood flows in my veins

sdrcow @ DA




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!

Ktulu the Constrictor Posts: 509
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 70.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Eytan :: Grizzly Bear :: Terrorize ali
#6

Nail my soul to the middle of a cross that fills this hole
I never understood the Written Word</style>


Archibald's words had a positive effect on the dark mare. She appreciated the desire to serve that he claimed to have and could certainly use it. As of late the Grey had fallen into a silence of sorts. There was a lack of jobs for them to complete, which was disappointing in itself. There seemed to be a lack of interest among the warriors she had gathered for the position of head warrior. Perhaps Archibald's obvious drive would change that.

Without invitation another stallion joined their conversation, asking questions before he had even introduced himself. Dark ears tilted back and a look of indifference settled itself on the black and white mare's face. No sooner had the questions been asked, Ophelia joined them and answered the other stallion's questions. When Tor was mentioned Ktulu's mind drifted to the once medic who, now, she saw as little more than a turncoat. There had been a reason Ktulu had not explicitly trusted the medic. She had seemed flighty and unsteady and she had been proven correct in her judgement.

Ktulu nodded in acknowledgement of Ophelia's thoughts of Archibald. "Welcome to our ranks, Archibald." She then said before turning her attention back to Knox. "Who are you?"



Credits

Icon by Tay

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#7

No
I'm not a failure
I got something to prove


"Ophelia," Archibald watched her approach, as well as his youngest brother, but greeted her first. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a panicked Manhattan rush to Loretta. Confused, Loretta flashed Archibald an image of Knox to Archibald, and then an image of a crow. Curse. Imposture. Darkness. The words that followed her images confused the draft, and he turned his head to stare his brother in the eyes. It was true--something was different. The way he walked, and how he spoke to Ktulu. The scarred male's brows tightened, and he pressed his shoulder into Knox in an attempt, that only the Mandrake son's would recognize, to silent the young friesian.

"I am grateful, Ktulu." He did not know how to say thank you to the mare, and he justified that his words would suffice. He did not think Ktulu knew how to say thank you either--or, at least say it and mean it. "This," Archibald motions with a flick of his tail as his eyes rest unflinchingly on Ktulu's, "is my youngest brother, Knox." Archibald stands silently then, waiting for the sisters to pass judgement on his little brother. Archibald would be proud of Knox, if it was truly Knox, for following him with loyalty. However, Archibald had no way of knowing if this thing that manifested in Knox's body was loyal to him or their family. In an uncomfortable manner, Archibald shifted his weight, pain trickling down his legs from the burns, though mostly healed by Tor's skill, that pulled on his rump. He wanted to speak to his family, let them know what happened, and to tell them of what they were expected to do now. He wondered, above all else, how Mandrake would take the news.

Image Credits


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#8



The martyr knows that what is playing out before him is wrong. He feels uncomfortable in this body; he wonders if his time here is borrowed just as is this form. Those around him know each other well in their own way, even if they have just met. The other stallion, the massive draft to whom he feels such a strong connection, carries himself with pride and poise that seems to impress the mares before him. But the... sisters, Huric gathers, are just as powerful themselves. It is clear by the words of the white that they are figures of authority in this band of Grey soldiers. With the dignified deference of a soldier, he bows his new and awkward body to their will, bending forward ever so slightly when the stallion introduces him.

Introduces him as someone else entirely. There is a slow trickle of information from a mind that cries in the back of his mind; this Knox, this being whose body he has stolen, whose companion he has disturbed, and whose brother he has tricked. Huric pities this Knox.

But there is not enough information- not enough knowledge to fill in the gaps. Huric comes from a different time and place. Here everything is strange words and strange creatures. He has never seen these beings before, even if Knox has- even if the white reminds him of this. Her memories, gone? But now he was the one who did not know her, if it was really true that she had forgotten him.

But how could she have forgotten him, when he hadn't ever even known her? Are time and the memories locked in the mind really so fluid- so hard to grasp? The kind stallion stands close beside his brother and watches with a wandering eye as the loyal retriever returns to his side. She brushes against him as she searches for something he cannot give her. He feels a pain so immense in the depths of her blue eyes. He understands that he is feeling her pain just as much as his own.

But the conversation distracts him from the emotions for a time. Huric may be susceptible to such waves of feeling, but even a being as sentimental as he recognized a need for seriousness. The opportunity and situation seemed grave; it was suddenly imperative that he maintain his identity as this Knox- this newly inducted warrior of the Grey's younger brother.

"A pleasure to meet you," he says with a nod to the darker mare who seemed suspicious of him. He bites back the phrase in turn to the white mare, of whom he can find no trace in Knox's blinded, cowering mind. She knows Huric, and thus he will act as if it is mutual. He simply nods to her, however, in a greeting that would have been customary between old friends in the old country. He knows that this is not the old country, but he knows just as well that his own memories of etiquette are all he has to draw on now.

Knox will have wanted to stay with his brother, Huric thinks. If the two of them are so close- and the martyr knows nothing of the time he will spend in this body, he would be foolish to sacrifice this opportunity for Knox, should the stallion ever return to take the helm. "I would like to join your ranks alongside my brother," Huric proffers with some nervous tensity and a kind look towards the large draft, who he has gathered from the words of the dark mare is named Archibald. At his side, the retriever whines softly. He wonders faintly if it is in protest; wonders again when the scent of prey catches the wind and a strange sort of animal hunger stirs in his chest. Through blue eyes not belonging to his mind, the martyr looks out upon the new and strange world.

knox</style>
Huric</style>

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
#9


Ophelia watched when Knox tossed his head in her direction, his only recognition of her apology. Something about that was strange, she thought. After she had met him in the Throat, run across him on the beach, and now tried to make up for the fact that she had been absent minded, he seemed to ignore it entirely. She furrowed her brows, wondering where this self confidence suddenly came from as well. Her two previous encounters with the dark stallion made her think that he was dangerous, but quiet, shy and perhaps a little off.

Now, he conducted himself with grace, poise and pride, his expression pointed and his words clear and distinct. The clear whine of Knox's dog, Manhattan, causes her expression to narrow again, ever so slightly. Why was she upset her her presence, in her master's presence? Ophelia did not have enough evidence to truly back up her claims that something was not right with Knox, so she cautiously nodded her alabaster, delicately refined face, looking to Ktulu when Archibald answered that Knox was his younger brother.

Phi never would have guessed that the two were related. She did, however, smile her best and tried to lessen the scrutiny in her eyes. "You are welcome to join the Grey, Knox," she replied. "Once we conquer the Foothills, you should be able to find your place among our ranks. Until then, I suggest you train with Archibald and try to practice gathering information, unseen and unheard." Phi nodded to the group and then pressed forward, so much needing to be done before their impending war.

[ooc: just wrapping this up! No need to reply if you do not want to! ]


OPHELIA
Faith shattered and decays as frosted blood flows in my veins

sdrcow @ DA




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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