the Rift


[OPEN] Dust to Dust

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#1



Surely, he was dreaming. Most evidence pointed towards that fact, and it was to be expected, after all. Except the tightness of his lungs and the dampness of sweat on his skin was too real to be a simulation of the mind, a mere fabrication of what he wanted but what always seemed to slip away from him. Without a doubt, he had been living in a winter world for far too long; long enough for the scent of wildflowers in the night air to be alien to him, and for a whisper of leaves to be nothing but a distant memory. He could recall, in the valley of his home, the clacking of dead branches upon each other like skeletal fingers, the crack of ice shattering underfoot, or the clatter of rocks falling down an uneven cliff, but never the sound of life so vibrant and alive as it seemed here.

Roland couldn’t even be sure what had possessed him to leave the Basin and stumble his way down the mountain pass in the darkness, tripping over roots and rocks until he came to the steep path that trekked its way up to the Heavenly Fields. He had been there once before, though not to admire the scenery, and memories of his spar beneath a blinding sun fled back into his mind as he gasped for air in the thinning atmosphere, tendrils of mist wrapping around his body. Finally, he felt grass underfoot, lush and green despite the darkness, soft soil giving beneath his hooves and the petals of luminescent flowers tickling his fetlocks.

He was escaping again, as he had done the night- or had it been day?- that he had met Seiren by the sea. It seemed that impulse, to remove himself from the confines of the Basin, seemed to grip him often these days, and he found himself acting upon the whim with a concerning eagerness. The light of the moon bounced off thick swaths of condensation in the air, hanging low over the ground like a fallen cloud. Roland waded through it with a deep breath, trying to ignore the guilt settling vapidly in the back of his mind, and lowered his muzzle to take a tentative mouthful of the grass. It was nothing like the frost bitten foliage in the Basin, graying around the edges and sucked dry of moisture. He didn’t know it yet, but the Earth God had returned, bringing with him the sunless Birdsong and a land now crowding with plant life.

Chewing silently, he lifted his head to look out across the field, sprawling flatly towards the horizon on all sides until it dropped away, the silver tips of mountains rolling into the distance until they were lost to the thick layer of cloud and shadow. He tilted his chin, eyes raised to the heavens littered with stars and distant nebulous splashes of colour. The moon bathed his hide in a remarkable shade of silver, but he would have much preferred the sun in its place. “Why did you have to leave?” He murmured to the open sky, his words swallowed by a breeze rolling over the field.

Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.

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


There was a warmth to the air in these types of days, when the wind blew flower petals at you and all you wanted to do was walk around and hum a soft tune. In the cold, brisk airs of the Basin, she was longing for a good escape, a break into freedom that would result in her relaxation, and then after, finding someone to help her bathe. She was good enough not to get herself dirty, the white, pristine coat her most prized possession. Other than her horns, that was.
Iosui never needed to be like the rest when she was suitable and found herself beautiful just the way she was. As a child, she was a fiery chestnut that greyed out fast to a small white mare who bore two red antelope horns on her forehead. They never grew to be that big, like everything else about her. She could live with the idea of those who looked down upon her, even her brother did so. Being the small one in the family always carried a heavy burden, with a light baggage of happiness.
She had stood and watched as the members of the Basin ran out to battle, knowing full well that her small size wasn't going to get her that far into the battle. Instead, she slipped out through the mountain pass, and headed south with them, wishing to follow them just to make sure that everyone was alright. Psyche and Illynx, the two beautiful mares who were kind enough to allow her to return home with them had probably gone into battle as well, the only friends she was considered to have in the tundra leaving for war. War for the snowflake mare was just watching it from afar, never getting to close for it. As a child, her mother told her that her body would always be too frail for that type of wear and tear. Instead, the stealthly ways weren't that bad, and she needed to get out and find some information without having to get close to them too much.
Now, there was a lack of burden anywhere, as the mists touched and smoothed her coat. She bathed in the moonlight, enjoying the fresh and awakening it brought to her soul tonight. This place was close enough home that it wouldn't be too much of a difficult task to come here when she wanted, to relax and soothe the soul. A form of mediation, if you must define her actions.
Something dances about in the distant, words spoken in a questioning, almost monotone voice. The pair of small ears she carries faintly captures their mumbling. Her response was completely different than what the owner might not of wanted, but it was a song she hummed in her head, reminding her of home and how it was nice to sing that song with her brother.
"So long ago, I don't remember when,
That's when they say I lost my only friend.
Well, they say she died easy of a broken heart disease,
As I listened through the cemetery trees."

Her voice slides over the fog, it's soft tone creating an eery feel to the air. What might of gone through her companion's ears at that time seemed useless to her. She came to let her soul breathe, to escape the trapped feeling of the Basin, only to have words spoken to her in the darkness.
At that moment, she could of never known the other soul was of her home, having never cared much for them. Yet when her small form began moving through the mists, white body becoming a ghost with deathly red eyes that held a black band around them, she could of been frightening. It was display that was useful to her when it came to the lower species, or could she even define them as a species altogether? A glint from the Moon brings her attention to a shimmer, a horn standing with it's owner in the pale cloak of night. She blinks, once, twice, and then no more before a soft sigh is released from her parted lips. A lock of white curl falls from her forelock and over the horns, cloaking their small bodies underneath until a pair of red tips appear.
Underneath her voice, riding along the mists and moonlight, are more of her song.
"I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn.
The long arm of human law,
Now it seemed such a waste,
She always had such a pretty face.
So I wondered how she always hung around this place."


OOC: Feel free to kick me out if this is for someone. <3


Soft words of Angel, secretly laced with cyanide.



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Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#3



It did not come as a surprise to the Impersonator when no voice answered him, reverberating with providence and echoing through the swells of cloud hanging low enough to stir with a tilt of his horn, but he was disappointed all the same. He sighed, a soft exhalation of breath that did nothing to disturb the peace around him. Now, seemingly, the Gods come and the Gods go, while mortals flicker and fade. World’s don’t last, and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But he could pretend that there was more worth to the matter at hand, and maybe if he worked hard enough he could convince himself that there was hope, buried somewhere deep inside the chasm that had formed when the Gods had left Helovia.

At least the moon had returned to them now, and the ground was springing up with new life that thrived even in the darkness. Their condition was improving, with a frustratingly slow pace, but where Roland had once felt nothing but despair, he was beginning to grow confident that one day the sun would rise. And maybe then he would do something about the pit he had dug himself into. He cast one last rueful gaze towards the sky, swallowing down the belligerence and wrath he occasionally felt towards the beings who had once meant everything to him.

But he was preoccupied not only by this curse of an endless night; war, from two sides, had been shoved unceremoniously into his face and he had been given the chance to fight for the honour of his family and the icy throne they sat upon. Yet like a coward he had shied from the opportunity as if even entertaining the idea of it caused him great pain. Guilt had shoved itself into his heart like a knife; guilt for staying behind while the warriors had filed from the barren corral of the valley, guilt for leaving his home and launching himself into unfamiliar territory just to get a breath of air that didn’t swim with the scent of cold and corruption. He had once been proud of his title and home, but he was slowly beginning to feel them as a burden to be choked down and hidden away. Where had the purpose he had once been filled with crept away to? He enjoyed being a part of something, and wasn’t bound to leave the Basin behind in the near future for his courage was fragile and fleeting, and his willingness to adventure had long since waned. But he missed the easiness with which he had once lived his life.

Then suddenly, a voice tore its way into his thoughts and pulled his gaze from the distance, muscles flinching in surprise. The approaching creature seemed to be something of a ghost, and so Roland, uncharacteristically comfortable in the unfamiliar sprawl of grass, drunk on the light of stars and the liquid movement of mist around him, simply arched a brow in silent inquisition. The words flowing from her lips with a lilting cadence were not of the usual greeting he came to anticipate upon meeting a new face, but a rhyming verse that related nothing to him, or, as far as he could see, the current situation they found themselves in.

Even though he had initially been startled, Roland turned to look directly upon the mare with a strange feeling of equanimity. He knew she was unfamiliar, but he would stow away any suspicions for the time being and allow easy conversation to pass between them without hidden doubts and furtive glances. If she was in fact going to speak eventually, rather than continue to serenade him amidst a wave of white flowers. As she neared, he noticed the lingering smell of ice and mountain winds tangled in the curls of her mane, and couldn’t help but recoil slightly. Was he being followed, or was this a mere coincidence? Perhaps he should count himself lucky that a herd mate had stumbled upon him in place of a hornless.

After a few breaths of silence, the mare began to sing again, filling the air with a myriad of notes in place of the conspiratorial whisper of the breeze. Roland’s eyebrows shot up somewhere around the ozone layer. He didn’t bother to hide his confusion, tilting his head to the side and waiting patiently until she had finished. “You have a lovely voice,” he remarked at first, the comment somehow coming out as dry and emotionless even if he had meant to be sincere. He chased the words with a false smile and chivalrous bow, tilting his chin to his chest before leveling his gaze on the startlingly small mare. “I am Roland, Impersonator of the Basin.

Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.

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Iosui Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#4


She listens to herself sing, the words coming naturally to her lips. The one that accompanies her is allowed to her sweet serenade that calms the night, bringing them an uneasy silence. A distant bird takes to a song with her, their tunes colliding until she hears his words gracefully dance over the mists and fogs that cover the ground, reaching her with ease. At first, her reply is not with words. Instead, she smiles to him and lets a faint blush take over her white coat. The night took her blushing face and hide it away, their scents of ice and snow choking the air between them. There is no gait to her legs, replaced by easy feeling of relaxation and pinches of content.
"Thank you. I didn't expect much of company tonight, definately one of my own herd. One would think that we were all out to take down those who stand below us, and the ones with horns that go low enough to align themselves with them, but I believe staying home to watch the palace is a better task. Though, it seems neither of us is doing very well at that task, are we? If you'll keep it a secret, I will as well." She offers a gentle smile that sweeps over her face with grace, the small white ears mounted upon the top of her head perched forward towards him, red eyes filled with curiousity and contentness. The curiousity of her is set towards him as of who he is exactly when his name is broken to the pair without much note. His name was Roland, simple and kind upon the vocal cords and mind. Her own name was more complex but held so much meaning to her as her brother heralded it upon her. There is a chuckle from her as he says it, happy to know that her herdmates had easy to remember names.
"Roland? What a simple name; I like it. Well, my family called me Iosui, but you are free to call me Io. We seem to share a few common things: a horn, our professions, the place we call home. Might I ask what brings you out here with myself?" Her name could easily strike a good memory upon him, her ghostly appearance and small size leaving the best of marks upon all that happen to come across her. A few steps are taken towards him, her thin legs cutting through the low lying clouds that clot the earth and tall grasses that fill this area. Even from far sight, it is easy to tell that she is in no rush and with no need to be anywhere important. Conversation sounded lovely to her as far as it went, thoguh for her companion, their part in the nighttime play was just as important as her own.
When she is able to come close enough to him, her black banded eyes lock upon his only for mere minutes, only to make there wasn't too much emotion from the pair. Her actions were blunt, careful, polite, and well watched. His seemed of those from a gentleman, which brought a smile to the mare's face. "Please say, how does the night affect you? How long has it lasted? Each second in this, I feel as if I should be chasing an foreign light just to have that warmth once more. It is not fire that I seek, maybe it is sunlight that may be beyond even the most distant peaks. Do you think that the light is still there where we can't see it?"
Questions fill the grap between them, her voice agile and swift as it bursts through silence and slices it with a knife. The white pelt she bears plays her even more ghostly as the Moon breaks itself from beyond a cloud.
"I don't think I may accept night much more after this."


Soft words of Angel, secretly laced with cyanide.



Image Credits

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#5



Amusement played across Roland’s features as he watched the blush form on Iosui’s cheeks, the glow of the moon flowers illuminating her face and glinting off the blood red of her eyes. It had been a long time since he had thrown around compliments like cards, merely for the sake of seeing a smile upon the face of his companion, or to brighten their day when it seemed his case was hopeless. It felt good.

He tilted his head as he listened to the mare speak, forcing a smile onto his lips in response to her words even when he felt a twinge of guilt in his heart. “That’s a better way of looking at it,” he murmured with a soft chuckle; but he hadn’t exactly been vigilant in the absence of his fellow warriors, nor did he think the urge to stand his ground would come over him if they found their precious valley under fire. In ways he wished he had followed his family to the barren lands of the Dragon’s Throat, to feel the dry heat upon his back and feel chalky sand beneath his feet, to be surrounded by something other than ice and snow, but he also knew that despite his efforts he was a coward at heart, and it was more likely than not that he would have made a fool of himself stumbling around in the dark with little but the blade atop his head for defense.

Of course, my lips are sealed,” he added at her conspiratorial offer, winking as she waded through the grass and mist towards him. He effortlessly dwarfed her small form, which felt odd to the Impersonator as he often felt overwhelmed, being slender framed and long muscled. Having to tilt his chin to meet her scarlet gaze was something of a welcome change. He didn’t have to wonder at who held the upper hand. But he still questioned Iosui’s motives; was she going to be like Seiren, twisting his arm to wrest information from his mind, or was she just as she appeared to be, only interested in simple conversation and companionship on a dark day that was, sadly, just like any other.

He nodded imperceptibly as she rolled his name across her tongue and introduced herself, and he was just beginning to think that their exchange would be easy when it appeared again, that bothersome question. The one he always wished to avoid by any means because he himself didn’t even know the answer. He was running, trying to trick himself into believing that he had freedom at his disposal when he knew there seemed to be a chain around his neck, trailing back to the Basin. What was he expected to say instead? “Enjoying a change of scenery,” he settled for finally, lifting his head to stare up at the moon with a feigned smile in his eyes and on his lips. “And what about you? Surely you did not come here just to sing to me.

She is nothing if not forward, posing to him questions that seemed so deep and philosophical when they had only just exchanged monikers and how-are-you’s. “It is unpleasant…” he grasped for words at first, unsure of how to respond. “Months have passed and I still have not grown used to the constant darkness. Now I’ve even lost track of the time. It could be night or day and I wouldn’t know the difference.” His eyes followed the trails of mist around them, swirling tentatively through the long blades of grass. “I sleep when I’m tired, and rise when I can sleep no longer. But I do not think the light is here. I can feel its absence just as strongly as I feel those of the Gods who have yet to return to us.” He sighed, watching the moonlight dance off Io’s pallid coat. “But for the first time in a very long while, I’m beginning to feel hope.

Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.

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