the Rift


[OPEN] Memories [open]

Azulee Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Warrior atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 hands :: 6 years :: Orangemoon HP: 65.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Valda
#1
azulee
they want rain without thunder and lightning




Up here the air is brisk. It sweeps through fields of gently swaying grass with a seasonal broom, gradually draining the rich emerald pigment from the fields and ushering forth the imminent arrival of Frostfall. The clouds drift lazily along the gilded horizon, and Azulee finds herself mirroring their indolence. She lays with her wings flung behind her, her sides heaving with each cool inhalation and her nostrils flexing softly, topaz irises partially veiled behind too drooping eyelids. She remains like this for some time, not quite sleeping but hardly conscious, her ears twitching idly as the grass leans in to tickle them.

In her mindless drowsing a play of static has taken shape among the grasses, no doubt the product of her dreaming. It is a large figure, jolts of placid electricity arcing peacefully from its equine structure. Two wing-like formations adorn its sides and it appears to be grazing, its head lowered and its "hair" billowing. Meanwhile the lightning child is listening to the soothing symphony of the wind and the soft crackle of electricity, remembering her father taking her here one bright Birdsong morning. She remembers chasing butterflies as he grazed quietly not far away, smiling with affection as he spectated her pursuit.

She misses those days - when her father was not busy patrolling the desert and found the time to revel in the company of his family.

She wishes things were different. She wishes he were with her now, not simply a figment of her dreaming. She wishes she could come to truly know the man who had raised her. For now, however, she is content in her half-way slumber, thinking of what has and might've been, but will, sadly, never be again.
background image © riktorsashen

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#2




A N D R O M E D A
daughter of the stars


I visit the place I once called home and grieve.

Here my parents had fled my company but what felt like moments after I had stopped drinking my mother's warm milk from her teats, disappearing with a flurry of wings and long legs thudding on the earth. It was this soil I had grown on, under the starry eyes of the night sky tending to me like a mother and father. Not so long ago had I survived here in the open, afraid to venture down the path cloaked so thickly in sinister silver fog. If I had been desperate for company, for family and friends, maybe it would've been different. Maybe I would be different now, a social butterfly rather than a quiet, starry-eyed bird always looking for the stars even in the bluest of brightest sky days. Now this world looks so different from above; small and ever so slightly forlorn, as if an unwanted child. I ignore the knots twisting in my stomach, that persist despite the logic that says nothing will happen should I descend to the warm, moist brown soil I love so much more than the desert sand.

I tip down a wing and begin the spiral downwards, slow, easy, and relaxed. Today I feel no particular rush, just relaxation. Soon enough I plunge through the thick cover of sprawling silver clouds that engulf the land below, the wind brisk on me. Soon enough I am feeling it, a sharp little side-wind that nudges me insistently. But I am a decent flier, enough that I can handle myself for most-times, and so soon enough I am approaching the ground, flaring my wings and back-beating quickly, stopping the momentum that would bring me faceplanting on the grass I know so well. Thud. Thump. Thump. My wings are steady, stirring the long grass beneath me, their beats annoyingly loud. In the peaceful, serene quiet of this land, they seem obscenely rude, like a human chewing gum in a church- although I am quite unaware of humans, gum, and churches.

I sneeze as the grass tickles the undersides of my hooves before it is crushed beneath my weight as I settle on all fours, carefully folding my long dark wings to my side with a satisfied little sigh. As I glance around, i am struck oddly by how desperately small everything seems, so different from when I was an unkempt dreamy-eyed yearling.

Then I blink, momentarily stunned. For the shortest of moments I thought I saw me- young, scraggly, and somewhat sad-looking. For that split second I even think the filly smells like me- like sand and dust and the Throat... before I realize how silly I was being. It was Azulee, I recognized, daughter of the star gazer Cassiopeia, and so, I decided, a friend, as with any of the herd. But I cannot say I have ever spoken to her much, not that I recall. Then again, I have rarely spoken to anyone. I suppose it is not so surprising I know little of her. The one thing I exactly know, perhaps, is that Azzuen has recently died, and she is his daughter. I wish I could understand that pain, help her through it. But being abandoned, I quietly think, is quite different than death. At least I can keep the hope I may one day see my parents- even if I want to see them, a fact I'm unsure of- but this girl... never will she see her father's face.

I am briefly tempted to take off, flee from the counseling that must come. Controlling the impulse, I move forward to her flank, careful not to tread on her outstretched wings, and begin to graze quietly, enjoying the taste of sweet grass. I wonder if she recognizes me.

""



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Azulee Posts: 62
Dragon's Throat Warrior atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 hands :: 6 years :: Orangemoon HP: 65.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Valda
#3
azulee
they want rain without thunder and lightning




The reverberant thwump of wings cupping air causes the child's ears to twitch in recognition, though she initially dismisses it as a figment of her dreaming. When a brisk sneeze sounds not far away, however, Azulee's heavy eyelids flutter open in response, and she lifts her head from the ground to drowsily inspect her surroundings. She oscillates her petite face in examination of the meadow, the long grasses nearly obscuring her view. As she peers through the stalks, her champagne-tarnished mane falling chaotically about her youthful features, she catches site of a familiar mare, one who reminds her vaguely of her star-breathing mother by the nebula which varnishes her midnight black form.

Her static figure (the one who somehow resembles her dearly-departed father) seems equally riveted by the newcomer, raising its head as if to spectate her approach before fizzling out of existence in an obnoxious crackle. Azulee, unaware she had animated the figure, watches in mild surprise as it does so before returning her gaze to Andromeda. After a moment of silence she raises her forehand, her haunches quickly following suit. She shakes her body vigorously and a film of dust hovers around her for a moment before settling.

Still, she says nothing. She has nothing to say, really, as she stretches her massive wings, the gossamer feathers reaching upward as if straining for the sky. Her jaws widen and sooty lips peel back as she utters a gaping yawn, her leonine tail held out stiffly behind her. She does not wish to bother with idle chatting, and decides to simply enjoy this mare's company in silence. She lowers her face to graze, yellowed teeth tearing at the sweet, emerald victuals. The grass is always sweeter this close to the sun.

Indeed the lightning child recognizes Andromeda. Surely she has heard of her father's passing, and Azulee wishes to spare her her condolences. Of course she is sorry. Everyone is sorry, and yet, it is no one's fault.

background image © riktorsashen

Andromeda Posts: 91
Dragon's Throat Healer
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Lauren
#4
Suddenly, as if out of the blue sky bright under the clouds of crème, my eyes take in the flickering electrical form, large and bold, and I am struck by a peculiar sense of déjà vu, as this has happened before, as if I have seen this before. I find myself marveling at the sparkling, crackling pegasus that turns its large head to me, and for a moment the face seems familiar, and then it dissipates with a loud burst of static, and its flickering form has vanished from my sight. The daughter of the Ardent yawns magnificently, parting dark lips to reveal the yellowing, flat-edged teeth so unlike the vicious, hooked fangs of predators- why I suddenly make this comparison, I know not- and with a seamless movement she rises, much taller than I expected, despite hovering about only fourteen hands, and her face older as well. She is of a deep blue, the hairs frosted with delicate silver, and she strikes me to look much like a younger version of her mother. Cassiopeia, former Oracle.

I sigh gently out my nostrils, and ease myself closer to her grazing form, until I am parallel to her, my head even to her short withers, and out I reach, my teeth searching softly for purchase. I find it under my whiskered muzzle, and I begin to groom her, scratching at her back, careful to avoid accidently plucking any of her soft, young feathers. Is she capable of flight? I cannot remember when, precisely, I could fly. Sometimes it seems the time before Kri found me melts together in a sudden blur, all the details hidden by the smudging of time’s hands.

ooc; if the grooming is too much powerplaying, i'll go back and remove it <3


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