the Rift


[OPEN] One moon closer to restoration

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#1



Ulrik was frustrated with his magical impotence. The stallion stood, a few different gathered piece of metal scattered around his hooves. In the past, all he would have to do is open the blueprint within his mind and inhale. The pieces of metal would warp and assimilate so beautifully, wires would encase themselves in insulators and before him would be a magnificent creation, and automaton, a robot, a perfectly self-sustaining machine (well, until it rusted or required some maintenance).

But as he imagined his blue print and stared at the scraps of metal, nothing happened. He felt empty, as if his entire life had lost its purpose. Ulrik was rarely depressed, as he was normally in a state of psychotic happiness, but this blow to his entire persona hit him hard, straight in the chest. The stallion's spirits were dampened, and he watched longingly at the pieces of metal for so long that large drifts of snow had gathered along his back that he had not even felt.

Who was he if not a re-creator of nature? If not her most faithful and loyal student? Her favored and inventive engineer? He was nothing but another stallion in a sea of stallions, no better than anyone else and just as ordinary with a dash if insanity.

He finally blinked his bronze eyes, trying to find inspiration in the light of the moon and seeing none. The entire world had turned into just a landscape, a flat, museless scenery, the back drop to his mundane life. Mountains did not contain wire skeletons and the ocean did not wave in the Fibonacci sequence that he had so often tried to recreate in the programming of his metal machines. At least his metal wolf was still running, and that brought him a little bit of hope.

The hell hound pup curled up on his leonine tail which dragged the ground by quite a bit and pooled at his fetlocks. Kirchoff was sleeping, and his metal wolf was on standby. Ulrik was nothing, covered in snow and on the edge of tumbling down the slope into a dark, pervading depression.


@[Illynx]



BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#2
Illynx
Her hooves pinged sharp pains up and down her ravaged limbs with each step, the battle with the dragon and subsequent raptors having taken it's toll on the lithe corporal, who moved with extra grace in each step to avoid putting unnecessary weight down on her damaged legs. She didn't imagine it would take too long to heal, having denied any assistance from the healers of the herd for the time being to allow for scars to begin to form upon her body, a mark of her status; while she was vain, the blemishes would serve as badges of honor and prestige, a concept she had only come to appreciate in the later years of her life. All other battles before this, Illynx had gratefully accepted the healing magic and herbs of those within her herd, but the mare had come to find that her pristine and unmarked condition more often than not led only to doubts as to her true capabilities; she would be changing that, beginning with these marks of the greatest fight that she and many of those she shared the Basin with had ever been fortunate (or unlucky, depending upon one's take) enough to take part in. Sure, she had seen war - but those were only small, regular mortals, not great titans like the storm drake had been, nor deadly creatures like the slender and quick raptors that had been born from the fallen beast's gut.

The silhouettes on the horizon drew her attention almost immediately, the mare pausing in her route about the perimeter of the herd-land to cast her gaze in the direction of the solemn figures, seeming at first glance to be a unicorn with it's bonded wolf or hound, though a test of the air gave her a metallic scent blended with the male odor of the unicorn, as well as the faint odor of a hellhound; that there were only two figures she could make out from this distance was perplexing, the combination upon the wind suggesting that the stallion was in a company of three, and so she drew nearer, curiosity writ across her features.

As the darkness fell away, the corporal moving much slower than she would have on most any other day, she found that the figure was indeed in the company of two others; a hound lay curled atop the unicorn's long, tufted tail, a metallic wolf lingering some distance from them both. It was curious, that was to be sure, the golden marked mare announcing her arrival with a soft nicker of welcome, as the stallion had faint evidence of membership to at least part of the various activities at the top of the mountain, the smell of the Empress and her kin light upon his otherwise wilderness drowned pelt, and she seemed to recall having seen him before, though she could not give him a name. There were far too many permanent residents within the Basin for her to keep track of those who led the life of a vagabond, calling the wilderness home but providing their services to which ever herd lands suited their fancy. Still, it was within her interest to know him - he was, from what she could tell, rather handsome, in a woodsman sort of way. His coat was shaggy and covered in a veneer of white snow that stood in stark contrast to the bronze and black of his coat, and she admired the tribal markings as she drew closer upon war-torn legs, finding those of her kin to wear adornments of obvious magical heritage to be the most visually pleasing and also most worthy of her attentions.

His face was also troubled, however, the mare casting a gaze to the metal bits strewn across the snow laden earth before him, curiosity growing all the more as she wondered precisely what had the outcast so down trodden as he looked upon his trinkets. Illynx gave little thought to the current state of magic in the realm, having none but that which she had received with her rank, and so she was left only puzzled; she found the pieces of metal craft to be beautiful, their motionless forms catching the various light sources of the Basin and glittering almost jovially in the eternal night, and were she him, would have found solace in that simple fact alone. "Has the metal done something to your feelings, sir?" she asked, coming to a halt and taking pressure off of her right hind leg by resting it upon it's point, that leg in particular rather sore from having been drug through the static infused goo of the monster, her face friendly and genuinely curious.
if I only could make a deal with God.
Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#3

Ulrik smelled a strange sort of foreign blood drift on the edges of his consciousness, and he struggled to give a shit. Who was he, without the ability to control the flow of electricity through intricately made circuits? He was nothing! Dammit. The stallion wanted to drive his horn straight through the middle of something in his frustration, but depression kept his hooves rooted in the snow, firmly. A soft nicker further pushed at his mind, forcing him to finally take stock in reality, in the present.

What seemed like a statue, covered in snow, began to move, slowly turning his low-hanging head to see someone approach. Dim, bronze eyes stared through the night at a mare, painted in gold, and as he focused more closely, he saw that she was the source of the smell of blood. The golden fur of her legs was burned, it seemed. But not by any traditional means - some form of electricity had caused those wounds, he knew. Shame, that she had come so close to his magic only to be wounded by it, and he sighed a little, a puff of white ghosting past his lips.

Ulrik was not one to notice the attractiveness of another, but he admired the fact that she was tinted in the color of a most useful, conducting metal. She was brighter than he was. He was of a dimmed bronze, and she a shimmering yellow. Even the browns in her fur seemed to give her a lighter coloration, something different and unique. As if earth itself had whispered the precious metal onto her body at birth, it shimmered on her back in a soft pattern. Intriguing, to say the least. Was she like him, then? Did she see the world in mechanics? Did she appreciate the delicate art of engineering?

From the tone of her question and the question itself, it seemed not. She was not plagued by the same emptiness he was feeling. He grimaced slightly, unsure of how to respond. The metal had not injured his feelings. Were his feelings even injured? He supposed so. That must be what the dull ache was he felt in his chest. Emotional injury. Dammit. He was falling apart. The strange light from the Haruspex's cave seemed to make the lake glow and cast soft, blue light upon his new visitor.

"In a way," he replied, the tones of his voice harsh and guttural. "I am unable to mold them anymore..." he trailed, the harshness of his voice seeming to dim into a masculine helplessness.

The bronze eyes watched the way she shifted, the way she gingerly stood on her own hooves. He frowned slightly. Kirchoff awoke from his place on Ulrik's tail and looked up at the mare, yawning and flashing white pup's teeth. A smile moved across his lips and he wagged his tail slightly in greeting. Ulrik ignored him. "You have electrical burns." The stallion stated this as a matter of fact, but the strange glow in his eyes shifted to show the barest hints of a mad concern.

"How did you manage that? I thought all power was dead with this goddamned night never giving way to light?" He asked, bitterness crawling into his tone as he cast another glance at the metal that lay on the ground, unwilling to move at his mental indication. The stallion looked at her friendly face and then shifted his body around to stand at her side. In a way that was patiently reluctant and very curt, he nodded toward himself, indicating that she could lean on him if she needed to. She might not. He was filthy. Covered in dirt and grime that flaked off of him like a snake would shed its skin. Clumps of dirt were tangled in his thick beard, and his mane was spiraled in knots.


lulzrik

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#4
Illynx
As the stallion turned, his metallic gaze filled with a sort of mist that she understood to be depression, she returned his sorrowful and almost nostalgic sadness with a demure smile, the sigh that escaped his lips misinterpreted as a sign of displeasure towards her, easily understood by the sheepish expression that now adorned her lips as she, too, let the silence extend their knowledge of each other's physical beings. Even more pressing upon her strange desire to befriend this uniquely made unicorn was the way his features contorted in response to her question, though she managed to keep it from bleeding onto her face this time. Replacing her awkward grin was now a face of curiosity, dark rimmed ears raised to catch the sounds of his voice, very similar to the crush of pebble ridden soil, or perhaps the rough and crisp destruction of leaves beneath hooves.

Regardless, it's notes were in fine accordance to the rough exterior of the Engineer, and she found something even more alluring in the words than even his sounds or the many bits and pieces that made up his rather untamed appearance and tone. That he was obviously capable of holding his own, the smell of the world beyond the safety of the mountains heavy upon his skin, and that he also held a certain rugged appearance that Illynx found both delightfully masculine and decidedly pure-blooded of good, sound lines (his pattern divulged his perfection more clearly than his horn ever could, and, oh, that wondrous tail) were only all the more desirable when combined with the most interesting tidbit she had gathered yet; this one had magic.

Magic to mold something as beautiful as these bits of metal that gleamed in the moonlight.

Her eyes burned with interest more keenly than they had before, her previous worries of having intruded upon him against his wishes stilled by the reply and completely smashed out of her mind by the mention that he could manipulate the silvery bits strewn before him in some means that was yet unknown to her. His sadness as he spoke, however, forced the lady to reign back her enthusiasm at this discovery, the urge to bully him into making the magic work despite the faulty connections between the horses of Helovia and their beloved Gods barely restrained from bursting from her eager lips. She quickly subdued the curious smile that threatened her face and replaced it with a line of faux concern, though to all who observed it, the expression was quite believable. "Mold?" she queried softly, an ear flitting backwards and then back towards the black and bronze stallion, "I would not have thought you an artist, appearances alone." The smile that followed her words was quirky and full of cheek that was usually seen only in children seeking to draw out the frustrated anger of their parents, though any who knew the mare well would be able to ascertain from her playful thrust at the stag that she was clearly trying to form some sort of connection by allowing such an ugly emotion as hopelessness be erased by the beauty of anger, no matter how slight it may be.

Assuming he was so easy to rouse, of course. Something told her that this one would bare much more of her childish taunting than most, but she could not be sure until she had tested her theory and, as had happened so often in her life, she could very well be entirely wrong.

Either way, the subject had partially left the region of faulty magic and quickly entered in upon her wounds, the male's companion hound rising to wag his hellos to the woman. The mare smiled coyly in response to both, letting the seconds slip by quietly as she glanced down at her bedraggled limbs in time to miss the stallion's longing glance towards the metal upon the floor. "It would seem that with the Lord Time absent, other beings saw their opportunity to seize things for themselves," a slender giggle broke from her, stifled by her continued words, "The Steppe was assaulted by one such creature, a massive dragon that dripped such volatile saliva and blood. I cannot recall ever seeing such a monstrous being in all my life." He had drifted nearer her side as she spoke, the snow that had accumulated on his side chill as he came to a halt alongside her. As he has moved, she followed his progression with her gaze, a momentary flicker of shock crossing her expression as he offered her his side to lean upon. It was an intriguing notion, no matter that she barely knew him, despite the grime that laced his sides and the knots that riddled his hair.

Despite her desire to accept his offer, however, doubts as to how it would make herself appear to the male kept her stationary for the time being. It would show weakness to accept his aid while she had refused that of the healers; weakness being the one thing that Illynx had found she absolutely could not tolerate within herself or others. Her brain rode back and forth tumultuously between to the two decisions for what seemed like eternity to the mare, who had decided to allow his courteous offer to play out to what ever outcome it would have, her shoulder pressing neatly into the slightly damp, chill, and definitely muddy support of Ulrik's own. Closer to him than before, the smell of the earth that coated him was more prevalent, though he did not stink as she had feared; rather, he smelled like soil, the hound carrying more of an unpleasant odor than his master, and even Kirchoff didn't smell awful. "I refused healing; I find these wounds most honorable, in memory of the dragon but also of my service to Helovia. Perhaps I am only foolish, if I seem so distressed to a man such as yourself."
if I only could make a deal with God.
Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#5

The motions of her face, the upturn of her lips, the squint of her eyes - told him nothing. He was at a table with puzzle pieces made of squares and circles and nothing fit together to make a larger picture. So, he stared. His eyes did not betray that he was lost, and his expression barely twitched. Only a tilt of the ears forward visibly relayed his curiosity and interest. Ulrik did not mind when her eyes seemed to drift from his own, mad gaze and instead onto hid structure (he assumed). Though, he wondered absently if she would find any beauty in it whatsoever. The stallion was the runt cut from a band far larger and bulky than he, so he often did not see the thick musculature that spiraled his bones as anything particularly unique.

Perhaps his most striking feature was the alluring and archaic lines that wound up his left leg and shoulder, bronze in coloration. Ulrik always wondered if his parentage displayed any of this marking or if he was branded as a young child; he had the mark ever since he could remember, and no screams of pain came to mind from so long ago... at least not ones that could have been caused by the formation of such an intricate pattern. The wind caught his thick, bronzed beard, and he suddenly wished that he was more clean. He was not normally concerned about such things, but now he was acutely aware of the knotted tangles of dirt and mud that wound in his thick mane and the clots of mud that were caught in his fur. Why did he care? Disturbing how his own thoughts ran away from him...

Hm...

Well, if she was spying, he might as well. Apart from his initial inspection, he noticed that her hooves were fused and her tail was full, but that did not diminish her allure. If mares had an allure. She seemed less... flighty and stupid than the others, at least, and she did not smell of those wretched pheromones that poured off of them in tidal waves when their bodies decided that it needed to be with child. Anyway. Ulrik did not have issue with her features. Many of his pureblooded brothers had managed to emerge from the womb looking more equine. As long as a horn still erupted somewhere from the skull, he was not concerned about their blood purity. Though... perhaps he should be. That boy... the Varath boy...

Focus.

Depression hit as he spoke about his lost power and the tragedy of the lifeless machines. Was she asking for clarification? "Yes," he replied simply, not sure if he was supposed to elaborate. Her commentary on his appearance confused him, and he stared at her with his mad eyes, the uncertainty crinkling the skin of his brows ever so slightly. Something about her tone sounded cheeky, as if she knew something that he did not. "Appearances can be deceiving," he replied simply, and he was so very right.

He asked about her electrical burns. As she relayed her story, the engineer's ears tilted forward in deep interest. Was the body still around? Could he study it? Learn from it? "Liquefied shock then?" he queried, eyes positively sparkling. Well that was fascinating. One would have to cool it at such a fast rate that the current was turned into a quantum flow state... How could the creature biologically produce such a phenomenon? "I will have to see the body for myself, I think."

Ulrik would not have minded if she had refused his gesture of support. Mares were stubborn that way - almost like an entirely separate species. However, she did, and he did not mind. Most likely he would smear dirt on her, but he found that he really did not care about that either. When she spoke, her lungs and vocals rumbled against his strong sides, and he nodded to what she said very slowly, rattling his beard just a little. "I recognize the pattern of an electrical burn," he said, tipping his mane to the other side of his neck to reveal some strange, streaking scars. "I learned the hard way," he said with a wry smile. "So no, you did not seem destressed; I just know what to look for."



lulzrik

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#6
Illynx
In one of her most favored positions, the mare elegantly stood for the appraisal of the Engineer, letting his copper toned eyes sweep along her body and sending silent trills through her veins. She was not sure what is was about being surveyed by a man, but never was there a time in her life aside from battle that she felt so spectacularly beautiful and whole; it was possible that she was simply one of the greatest narcissists of the era, but still, the eyes of the stallion were nearly as rough as his voice, and she found herself quite enthralled while captured by his gaze.

His reply to her jest was lacking in any sort of emotional outburst other than the dismal glimmer of sadness that pervaded the entirety of the air around him. Biting down on a lip to prevent it from pouting out at this lack of elaboration on the metal, she worked her facial muscles about to swing the disappointed grimace into a cloying smile, nodding her agreement that not all looked as they truly were. "This is true, sir," she began, "and also quite beguiling." The cheeky glimmer still burned in her eyes, their look upon his face cast away as she complimented him, a gentle sway rippling through her ebony locks as she prodded at the weakest point in all men.

She didn't have to truly love him to play such games, did she?

The depressed demeanor of the stallion abruptly swung about at the mention of the lightning dragon, however, the mare finding delight in the glitter of life that emerged from behind the hollow in his gaze. Nodding once more and will her smile in full regalia, her feminine tones lilted forward. "It lies in the Steppe, in the meadow to the east around the first set of peaks. Hard to miss it," her thoughts trailed back to her cave, the bottle of blood that she had returned from the battle with safely stowed away. She had been saving it for the Doctor's inspection, perhaps one of his students; however, the enthusiasm displayed in the male at the mention of the beast that had borne it brought to light a new mind to study the object in full. "From the corpse I retrieved a vial of it's blood, if that is of interest? I am not sure how long the glass will hold it in place."

This was true; each time she touched the object, it was full of a ringing heat that blazed through her tissue for several minutes after she ceased contact. That the creature had run on such a volatile substance was truly outstanding, almost more so than the fact that after nearly a month of resting in her box-like set of boulders, it was still just as vibrantly full of electricity as it has been the day of the battle. She pointed with her dark muzzle in the direction of her moss-covered cave - an invitation, if ever she had given one. Had Ulrik known her as more than a stranger, he would know that this was an unusual occurrence, indeed. Few had been within the confines her damp resting location, one of them being her dearest Psyche, and even they had been desired about as much as a severe case of colic in her solitary fortress.

Having pressed herself against his shoulder, the deep resonance of his voice rippled through her tissue with each gravely syllable, a pleasant warmth radiating from his flesh, even through the veneer of snow that he had allowed to collect along his spine. Noticing a change in his position as he commented on his knowledge of electrical burns, she turned her eyes to observe the streaks of white nestled in the dark of his flesh, the subtle grin on his lips. A sigh nearly escaped her at the relief of not appearing weak in front of such a resolutely handsome man, to have found a kindred soul of sorts drearily standing in the center of the Basin. Reaching her nose out to brush it against the scar and letting her lips linger along the edges of a particularly long streak, should he let her touch him so intimately, the golden mynx inhaled deeply of his earth and metal scent (ever so surprisingly pleasant) before her words broke from her lips. "From where did you receive this?" she curiously inquired.
if I only could make a deal with God.
Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#7


Was she trying to be flirtatious? The engineer just then understood what was going on, or at least a glimmer, and he furrowed his brows. Why was she interested? What could she possibly gain from trying to win his interest when she already possessed all of the spare attention he could give within the context of his mad mind? She explained to him where the body was and also told him that she had some of it's blood. His ears pricked forward with interested before crashing down. What use would it be to him? He was useless.

"Perhaps... when I am less... more... useful," he responded directly from his thoughts. She invited him into her cave, and that suddenly held more meaning. What did she want. He raised a brow at her, but he was not going to refuse. So, he followed her into her grove and moved so that she could lean against his shoulder, but he still felt empty. This was a distraction, and that was all.

Her lips brushed against his shoulder, and he looked down, tilting his muscular neck to glance in her direction. The metallic eyes that rested in dark sockets danced between the pale scar and her before taking a moment to think back. "I am not sure," he replied. "Most likely from when I arced a current. Too much resistance in that design..." he murmured. Would he ever be able to build again?

Finally, with his jaw set grimly, Ulrik looked at her. "Sorry, I can't... I am glad you are okay." With those words spoken, he moved from her cave and out into the depth of the snow, unwilling to let her see this side of him, the side that was afraid. And, he was afraid. Never being able to build again? Well... his entire purpose in life would be for naught. Death would be welcome.


[[Closing to start a new thread later!]]


lulzrik


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