the Rift


[OPEN] Deus ex Machina [Re: Contract]

Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE
Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud
#1
& from your breath she drew the Hallelujah </style>


[All are welcome to join. Posting order is revoked for this thread - feel free to post, but know that you may be skipped over in order to move things swiftly along.]


Although the golden spy knew that the Basin would be colder than the rest of the land, her memory had failed to remind her how cold. As her oddly-patterned wings beat down through the frigid air, her curvacious chest shivered as blasts of cold were directed at her lithe flanks. Still, the spy would persist.

She appeared as if a chunk of star had fallen from the sky itself, and was now gently gliding in the abandoned airspace above the Basin, where few pegasi ever dared to tred. The magic gifted to her by the star-bear, caused her body to shimmer and shine, as if subtle lit from a thousand points of diluted starlight, and as she flew, she left a break comet-trail of sparkle in her wake.

Look at me darlings, she thought, Psyche's own voice resonating in her head. The spy twirled and danced in the air, flirtatious silvery laughter echoing down below to the icy cavern and expanses of the Basin, hoping to draw the attention of those who would best suit her need. Below, the dark and dangerous Rafe was surely lurking. However she wasn't sure how much draw a Unicorn would be, in such racist lands. Hence her aerial show.

Confidently, she descended, her creamy hooves delicately pressing into the snow, once she was certain that her star-dance could not have been missed. The palomino left her wings expanded, regardless of the heat she could conserve by keeping them tight to her body. Find me, she mentally challenged, lithely spinning on her hocks. Look at me! The spy's dazzling green eyes sparked with amusement, as darkness fell all around her, failing to display the eyes that she was sure were watching, though revealing the dark and bloody appearance of Rafe.

"We are here about the Gray's contract. We would speak with those able to discuss it."

A dangerously flirtatious wink was shot in Rafe's direction, as stardust continued to pulse on her sooty coat. While she was certain that her dark companion was likely more immune to her charms than most, it still calmed her nerves nevertheless to conduct herself in her usual manner.







Image Credits
 HP: 45.5

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#2
Sin slid against skin in the arduous entanglement of iniquity and licentiousness, coiled in the heathen boughs of another endless nightfall, scouring the empires’ sides for fellow infidels and debauched, depraved machinations. Immoral flesh taut in archaic, reticent shelter, carnivore amore, damnation, corruption, prosed and poised upon hide of a long since ruined, eldritch titan. The unholy chains of his wandering were finessed into a summoning claw, voices dragged over the glacial borders, unfamiliar, and the knotted cords of his pernicious, puissant treachery, the enamel and lacquer of danger, of demands, ushered him from the shadows. The Reaper, possessing, crooning, molding and making scythes, swords and sedition, pressed his piercing stare over the rift and rime, capturing the spun essence of a Pegasus. His last encounters with a winged individual had left the bird bereft, fallen to ice and snow, lungs crackling at her last breath, heart struggling with its final beat, voice incapable of wise-cracking, inept endeavors any longer. But this one, glinting and gleaming, smelled of the Foothills, and so his first response would not be to assail, to assault, to unwind every commanding portion of his vile, cruel savagery. His approach was of cool indifference, not affected by her swirling, winking gestures, the radiance of whatever enchantments she used to allure, snare and beguile, features marked and embellished in the dispassionate, nonchalance of his constant insouciance. Rigid, a rapier sheathed, ready to unravel at a moment’s notice. Deimos’s grating vocals matched his stance, powerful, claiming the veils of darkness, dominating, controlling; supremacy in the chilling wind, General of the ice and gloom. “What do you wish to deliberate?” The contract itself had not yet prospered, but the Basin hadn’t altered its course either, hadn’t suffered or rained blows upon the stretching corridors of hills and valleys. Did the creatures seek something else, become avaricious and greedy in the stoked silence? Had they not disclosed the fine print? Or were other winds brewing, rupturing the muted plains?

DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Rafe Posts: 30
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE
Tamme
#3


   RAFE</style>
  The coldest blood runs through my veins</style>



The blood red stallion followed the winged one from his herd through the snow and into the narrow path of the mountains. He had never been here before, but his calculatingly cold blue eyes took in his surroundings carefully. What bothered him the most is that once they were inside, they only way out was back down that same, narrow path. He did not like that, not one bit. While he understood that the Basin was not an enemy, the thought of being surrounded and trapped with nowhere to go violated every one of his tenants.

Large, solid black hooves stepped carefully past the two halves of a mountain that was split and into the belly of the icy beast. Every now and then he would have to squint into the sky for direction, but her coy and dangerous mannerisms did not irritated him as he had expected. Instead, he found the way she acted rather useful. She was unpredictable, surprising and perfectly astute for a spy. If she did her job well, Rafe did not much care how it got done.

He tossed thick, black hair from in front of his face, feeling hit get caught in the horns that ran down his head in decreasing size. The angle, tilt and point of his four horns made him dangerous, and his well-build shoulders told of violent stories. If he could manage it in battle, Rafe would impale his victims on the top tiers of his horns and then slam the body down onto the longer one in the same motion a crocodile would use to toss a fish into its mouth.

The mare finally landed near him and spoke to the dark gray guard who answered. Her wink confused him, but all he offered in return was slightly furrowed brows before looking back at the unicorn who stood between them and his herd. Rafe bowed his head in respect, wondering if he saw battle more than the Grey. He would.... well, he would have to ask once away from prying, loyal ears.

"We have come to ask for an exchange in payment," he explained. "I have noticed that our craftsman and others have been unable to use their craft since the sun has gone missing, and this plague has spread across the land. Since our contract was solidified only a short time before the gods' disappearance, we assume that no work has been done on payment, which is for the better." Rafe's voice was smooth and charming like a deep, bubbling brook. The tenor was deceptive and provided slight comfort from his cold, brutal stare.

"Instead of your crafts, we would request warriors. A warrior for a warrior, one life for one life to whomever requires the services first. We would answer each other's calls, like an alliance, but this is only an exchange of..... capabilities. Should you accept, I will remain here, with your permission, or nearby to act as an emissary." Rafe stood quietly and yet poised with a certain sense of confidence. "We will await your decision with patience."




Crowley Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid & Name? :: Caracal :: None Dingo
#4

We build cathredrals to our pain
Establish monuments to attain



Something was wrong. Something was terribly, dreadfully wrong.

From the moment he had awoken, the Weaver had been stricken with a crippling, all consuming fear. It wasn't the sort of fear that shook you from sleep after a nightmare, though, for it remained, clinging to the brindle throughout the remainder of the day and inherently making him act a fool. Though he wouldn't think it until later, he was thankful for the darkness that lingered over the lands of Helovia, cloaking his pitiful state from the majority of his herdmates.

As always, Talbot remained at his master's side, doing his best to keep the stallion calm, but Crowley seemed to be afraid of even him this time around. In a kicked up frenzy of snow the brindle would whirl away, ears twisting backwards and eyes rolling white in his head. Talbot could never imagine doing any harm to his bonded, be it physical or emotional, and to see the stallion react in such a way was certainly disheartening for the poor pup as he kept a watchful, distant eye on Crowley.

However, nothing could prepare the poor hellhound for what was to happen next.

In the star strewn sky above, there was an unnatural light lofting slowly over the mountainside, leaving a trail of light in its wake. To anyone else, it might have been obvious that this was some sort of magic gifted to whatever creature it adorned, a Pegasus no less, but to Crowley, it was everything but. His body rigid, the Weaver watched as the abomination slowly bring itself ever closer to the ground, not too far from where he was.

Oh, God. It was coming to get them all.

Throwing his head into the air, Crowley went from a stand still to a sudden flurry of motion, leaping into a gallop. Plagued by absolute terror, he ran. "ALIENS!!" He screamed, trying to warn those that would probably end up terrifying him just as much as this 'alien' was, should he actually witness any of their faces in his panic. Onward he went, with Talbot fleeing after him, struggling to keep up with the hulking mass of the Weaver, for his strides were hardly anything compared to the stallion's.

But then, the glimpse of a dark greyed body captured the brindle's attention, nearly causing another scream to leave his throat. Putting on the brakes quite suddenly, Crowley turned his head to view the scene beginning to play out before him. Though several hundred yards away, they had surely heard him, but it was currently the last thing on the stallion's mind. There were three of them from what he could tell, but only one of which he could say he knew. The gleaming atrocity had landed and now stood with the General, as did another, a crimson coated unicorn he did not recall.

While he would have normally marched right up to the Foothills intruders and demand they explain their reasonings for being here, that wasn't true on this particular day... Night. Whatever it was. Instead, he closed the gap between himself and the trio until he stood approximately one hundred yards from them, granting himself enough distance to get away if the occasion arose. They spoke of a contract, the very one where his services had been offered in exchange for warriors should his home come under attack. But now, it seemed they wanted to change the stakes. Now, they wanted warriors.

"But why do you need warriors?" The Weaver barked, eyeing the strange couple with a peculiar look, already grimacing at the thought of having their eyes on him. To his right, Talbot had caught up and sat upon the snow covered ground, watching the group of four with ever watchful eyes as his master spoke. "How long would this 'exchange of capabilities' hold?"


Freedom from all of the scars and the sins
Lest we drown in the darkness within

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#5
[Just keeping the thread moving along because I know you wanted it to go quickly. ;D Let me know if you'd like to post instead, Aud, and I can take this one down.]

The demon’s attention was disrupted from the gathered individuals, now numbering two, by the strange outcry uttered from Crowley. A loud burst of his tangled tongue brought the General’s features towards the Weaver, who appeared anxious, apprehensive, shattered by a daunting foe. The stony beast arched one singular brow, but did nothing more. Was there an unknown entity shirking behind them, crossing over glacial wall and stone, some perilous menace he couldn’t sense? He rendered his observation and scrutiny back towards the pronged stag, listening as their contract was brought back into question. How many times had they dabbled in the affair of this vexing agreement, quibbling over tones, phrases and rights? But now the beasts wanted their payment in blood, in bodies, in carcasses and figures, instead of baubles, trinkets and fabric. Deimos’s piercing eyes ran over both creatures, attempted to puncture their reasoning for this alteration, for this bizarre set of circumstances in wishing to be lent Basin brethren. Calculating, ruminating, tracing menacing machinations, he was evidently not alone in his assertions, for Crowley spoke of the same sentiments. His voice, harsh and callous all over again, prompted the intrigue to unfold. “Your priorities have changed.” Were they merely no longer delighted by woven material? Had they grown avaricious, covetous, and voracious? Magic had long since floated from their bodies, twisting and turning in the darkness, leaving them bereft, chaotic, distorted in their heathenous haze – it could not be the sole reason for their venture across ice and snow. Was there an unknown ailment taking shape beyond their frozen corridors? How malicious? How disastrous? How consuming? What made them grasp and toy with the strings of set foundations, enough to beg to send his comrades to slaughter, massacre and mayhem? To the confident stag, Deimos’s cruel, shrewd fixtures layered across his heinous mouth, parting the ghostly trails of vapor and air. “What concerns you?”

DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE
Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud
#6
& from your breath she drew the Hallelujah </style>


[ No problem at all! It needs to mooooooooooove :3 ]

With a practiced patience, the petite spy took in both Basin ambassadors behind a veil of flirtatious amusement. Inside, she wondered why they were even the least bit curious what plans or needs the Gray had. Was it simply courtesy, for Rafe? Surely they only bore her presence due to the contract already struck - she was sure that had she come without the horned darkman at her side, that this meeting would have gone very differently.

"Why sugar", she began, her chiming voice so sweetly laced with an amused confidence, as she address Deimos. "Surely you would rather see the blood of non-unicorns-" At this, her wings spread a little fuller, fully aware that she was apart of the group about which she spoke. "-spilled on the ground, than given your wondrous metal machines, and lavish textiles? Then again..." With a charming smile dedicated to Rafe now, the golden girl turned on her heels as if to leave, passing by Rafe with a glance. "-I'd be the talk of the town. A pegasus wearing a cloth woven by the Basin. I'd rather like that. What do you think Rafe? You think I'd look good in the latest and greatest in Basin fashion, yes? " Her pink lips turned upward in a smile, as she feigned envisioning herself wrapped in a shawl of their making.

Curling her body around Rafe's hind quarters to once again move and face Deimos, her dark eye lashes batted several times, as a silvery laugh escaped her lips. "But I suppose it's still up to you sugar." She shrugged her shoulders, as if she was no more than a silly, air headed girl, but her sea-green gaze was strikingly piercing and confident. Choose warriors. It's in your best interest that gaze seemed to say.


Image Credits
 HP: 45.5

Odd the doer of things Posts: 115
Administrator atk: 23 | def: 42 | dam: 108
Mare :: Other :: 5"2 :: 27 HP: 108 | Buff: badass
Odd
#7
[Since no one is replying....The Basin has 24 hours to either: Provide payment as per the original contract or; amend the contract such that the Basin will provide warriors should the Gray require it. Failure to specify terms within 24 hours will result in the original contract being voided.]

Rafe Posts: 30
Outcast
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 8 Buff: NOVICE
Tamme
#8


ARM YOURSELF
Because no one else here will save you and I will replace you



The bloody bay stallion looked to the strange, antelope creature and the dark king, hearing their questions and trying to think of how to respond. He was a creature of logic, but he was also a smooth talker, when he wanted to be. Sometimes being a brutal, killing machine required a little dance. Fortunately, he did not have to think too long because Phaedra was already taunting them. He did not think that that was the wisest approach, considering that the two stallions in front of him seemed all business and no play.

"Lovely as always," he replied to her statement, mostly because he knew that she expected the response. A smile crossed his lips that did not reach his eyes and he then turned his gaze back to the other two.

"The contract would hold until fulfilled, but I would volunteer myself to act as an emissary and warn either side if the warriors are needed. Warriors would stay in their respective lands until a need arose," he said to the striped stallion. "Unless you prefer an alternative."

"As for why our reasons changed, that is simple. One of our leaders has gone, foals have grown and left, and our numbers are not what they used to be. Too much time has passed since we have made a presence, fought, killed..." he trailed, blue eyes flashing with a brutal, blood thirsty malice before he mastered the orbs again. "Better to have bodies than machines, though I mean to insult to your crafters, he replied, seeing no metal things set up in the snow and finding that curious.


[[it was my turn!]]




Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#9
Amidst discussions of war, contracts and oaths, Deimos ignored the mare. She frivolously twirled and chattered nonsensically, danced a fine edge between ridiculous and foolish. He was not a creature molded for theatrics, and was unaffected by her batting eyes, pealing laughter and inane dialogue. It had no place in their conversation, so he poised his piercing stare and impassive features back upon he fellow Unicorn, listened as he conducted their reasoning behind the alterations. As he spoke, the cold, calculating mind of the Reaper caught the snares of the dilemmas, pondered over the depths of how much they needed the Grey, how their payment had been affixed and amended to blood, to persecution, to desecration. The Basin procured many talents in their days amongst the frigid walls and peaks, and Deimos knew his own well: annihilation, quietus, the requiem and art of demise. Would it be worth revising the settlement to allow his brethren the opportunity to continue ravaging, ruining, devouring and consuming? Would they relish in the finery of battle, the taste and decadence, thriving between muscle, bone and sinew? And better yet – would they have opportunity to lay waste to their enemies, bound to journey, clash and crusade amongst the endless, eternal tirades of their violence? The mercenaries offered a reciprocal balance of warriors, soldiers and combatants, capable of casting shadows over Helovian pursuits, and he could visualize the devastation they could wreak with more figures crashing and assaulting. Psyche could likely agree with the sentiments. His voice chiseled through the chilling air, matching its bounty of daunting danger, fluidly contorting the finality of their juncture. “Agreed.” He paused, the wild reverberation ceased, hoping one word would prove adequate, but then proceeded to a few more phrases to ensure they were understood. “We may call on each other as needed.”

DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE
Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud
#10
& from your breath she drew the Hallelujah </style>


[ Apologies if my OOC comment came across as rude! This contract was created over 3 months ago, with the terms that: ""The Grey expects a half payment upon the agreement of this contract, if no payment is received you contract is void.". Given that so much time had passed from that original agreement, the Grey just needed confirmation on what the Basin wanted to do, and the thread had stopped.

Again, apologies! :3]

Judge me all you want- Phaedra thought with a delightful smile upon her pink muzzle, -and you'll never know what hit you.

She was used to this, of course. Being taken as an idiot - a fool. As a pretty girl with nothing of importance to say, or contribute. What with her chiming laughter, and hair tossing, who could blame those who thought of her as nothing more than an airhead? But that was precisely the point, now wasn't it? To be overlooked; passed over as some shiny bauble. A threat? No, of course not.

Not one that you would see coming, anyways.

The light in her gaze didn't diminish even a fraction, as Rafe's cold stare met her own. Nor did it waver as Deimos ignored her completely. What did it matter? Rafe had spoken words that the unicorn's understood, and they had agreed. The contract was now to their mutual benefit, although what that could mean for either side at this point, is hard to tell.

"Well then" she mused with a shrug, as her wings rose into the air. "I suppose I"ll just have to come calling for my shawl, another time. " Without waiting for the goodbye that likely would never come, the golden spy lithely leaped into the air, her large tawny wings easily removing her from the cold air, and cold stares of the Basin.



Image Credits
 HP: 45.5


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