the Rift


[OPEN] like a diamond in the sky [shajake]

Reizend Posts: 47
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.1 hh :: 7 (ages in Orangemoon)
rooster
#1
Reizand

The night is dark, but this is a fact that is no longer of any interest to me. It has been endlessly black for weeks, with only the vague light of these odd glowing trees to light the way. I spent quite a bit of time studying one before I gave up on trying to understand its magic. This particular place is even odder, with streams of blue illuminating the surrounding landscape. They say this place belonged to the gods, once, but I have seen no sign of such beings since my arrival. I suppose there are things in every land that simply do not make sense, but where I come from, most of the oddities originate in one's head.

Familiar splotches of brown cast a murky hue across my vision as my hoofbeats echo off the hardened ground beneath me. There is little else here to make noise, though. The trees have long since dissipated, and there is no grass to crunch beneath my slow pistons. I wonder if there was life here once, and if the gods destroyed it when they arrived or when they left. Deities are curious creatures, aren't they? It seems to me that they are like cats: they play with their mortal toys for only so long before tiring and moving on to the next world. They ruin lives with a flick of a tail, create life with a simple snort. I've heard that the endless night began with the gods' disappearance, and if this is the case, then how powerful can they possibly be?

It has been a pleasant journey to this place of the gods, and though they are strange, I find the Veins appealing to the eye. Gods or no gods, legends or no legends, this place has history, and that is something that I can appreciate. Even if its colours are severely lacking. I miss the forest and its myriad hues, the ocean's rhythmic blues - anything would be preferable to the desolate silence of the Veins. Yet still I plod on, and brown blossoms in my vision. I do not know what I seek by coming here. My instructions from my half-sister were simple enough, you see - all I am to do is seek out those who are like us - and yet I find it more difficult than I might wish to do so. Many of us have found that revealing our insanities will bring only persecution, and so we hide, or we pretend, or we create a mask to present to the world. To ask one to remove that mask is often asking too much, though the leaders of our little society would scoff at the notion.

They are harder than I, though, something that I am thankful for. Without those like me on their side, they would terrify those who might join them. Seele does not know how to quiet fear, only how to inspire it, and so I again use our similarities to my advantage. It is odd that we can be so different and yet so similar, and odder still is the hypocrisy that I present. I speak of masks and of hiding as though it is unnecessary, but I use them myself. I hide from Seele out of fear; I create personas to fool others to persuade them to join us. I can be cruel, I can be kind, I can be distant; but which am I, truly?

"Talk talk talk."
@[Shajake]


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








He is hunting items more and more often, mainly as they come to him. Somehow, he's come across the actions of finding those freely wandering in the starless night, discovering their frightened soul lingering about in the darkness.
Is it bad that when he finds a girl wandering the night, and sick enjoyment is eating away at his soul? Nope.
The land is a place he cares less to ever come and visit, and as she walks in the darkness, her movements and actions telling him that her little stroll is threaded with thoughts, that this will be easy. A hunt will be fast, and there won't be too much of a mess to clean up afterwards. A master of macabre smiles slithers across his face; heartbeat slow and well timed. This is just a picnic in the woods. If that picnic had grizzly bears eating the picnicers.
Her hoofbeats are slow, showing her relaxed and thoughtful state. His are light, quiet, and fast. Each muscle underneath a dappled skin ripples in well-built strength. Within his cover of night, it seems to almost end when he hits a loose rock upon the mounds of lava and cold rock beneath.
Green eyes stare her down, the lava's glow getting the mare a different light to a madman's point of view. Non-gentle smile on his face, he is studying her to make sure she doesn't seem affected by his mess up. No movement. The approach is began again.
He is almost upon her by the time the voice filters through the gears inside his head, moving the cobwebs aside as it graces through a skull like a breeze. 'Shajake, don't play with your food. You do it too much.' A groan almost escapes him before Scinfaxi appears, the white figure's gold stones staring upon him with fury and hatred. Disease or not, the psychopath is working upon his goal: Attack the weird coloured girl. Anger is sleeking the sides of his blood veins, and now getting the girl's blood over the rocks seems a perfect thing.
Scinfaxi is the only damn thing stopping him from doing so.
Though, playing with it gives it a figure of self interest, meaning, and care. Personally, she's a pile of moving meat to me that got colouring inside it. 'Agreed. Don't take it too far.' Do I ever? There is no reply inside his mind as he speaks to himself through thought, and when Scinfaxi has left him, he laughs in common madman style before his dark voice rumbles the earth, and nearby birds take fast flight in dreadful fear. No one wants to see the owner of that voice.
"A TOY?! How GREATFUL."
There is a cringe of his original, child self as it hears his actions and voice. One question from that old self is in there.
What have I done?

OOC: Ultimately, not the best Shajake post, but a Shajake post you have received.


"talk talk talk"

“AND THE WORMS ATE INTO HIS BRAIN....... - HEY YOU BY PINK FLOYD


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