the Rift


[OPEN] The Laughing Moon, The Ugly Sea.

d'Artagnan the Nightshade Posts: 364
Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed imi
#1
Dead. He might as well be, his body though free of serious injury, felt heavy and tired. By his feet the grass grew short and mingled with sand, tree branches quivered overhead, marring the laughing moon who d’Artagnan felt was far too arrogant nestled in her silver warmth. He was stood rather forlornly at the start of the Endless Blue, the left side of his body lit up partially by a nearby lamp tree as his gaze trailed to the floor, mismatched eyes hardening in bitterness. You’d think after going through a prior defeat that it would get easier, yet, who went into battle thinking they’d lose? No, it didn’t get easier, the Nightshade would almost say it got worse. He wanted snow, not sand, he wanted blood… Not the sea. The timeless ocean cursed to live forever, at least blood would eventually run out if you knew where to cut, leaving nothing but a hollow frame of what once was and never to be again. d’Artagnan never understood the beauty of the glittering water as the waves tirelessly rolled up against the shore, yes like the ocean time moved on, but the scenery was always the same. Dull.

A small breeze picked up strands of mane as he sucked in the air through his nostrils, letting it out in a long sigh. He still hadn’t decided what to do, his legs ached to go home, but there was the question of his sons and their retrieval, if he even managed to figure out a way to retrieve them. Sent out to gather information, Aramis, who now laid by his feet with a long pink long lopped to one side of his jaw, had quite frankly told him that the other battle had not fared well. Dragons win. Was all he had said, referring to their enemies companion by nature, but d’Artagnan understood the meaning and had simply nodded. Were Sacre and Roux even alive? Perhaps not, perhaps they were. He did not imagine the Edge, who always seem to speak of their soppy equality when he had the pleasure of running into them in the Threshold, would kill two foals. Even if he had claimed the life of one of their own. Yet, a battle was a battle, anything could have happened. He thought about finding Aviya, his eldest and guiltily his favourite, maybe her young mind might be able to help him. That was if she wasn’t dead too, though the idea of that made him laugh, no that little brat wasn’t dead. He’d of heard her screaming all the way in the Dragons Throat if she was.

Kou would know what to do, but would he have his pride intact after she’d throttled him for not retrieving their sons was dubious and the idea of her angry face was both scary and oddly attractive. He snorted, Mauja clearly knew what he was doing when he placed her under his care, her petite bodice and snide comments had slowly melted his ironclad heart. "Smug bastard." He said to no one in particular as he remembered the spotted Lord who he hadn’t seen for a while, again. His voice was quiet and laced in slight amusement, talking to himself like the mad brute he was. "You always go wherever you want, I envy you that." As if Mauja could hear him. Back to the point, he felt his heart clench and his stretch back, the news he'd heard leaving was that Kou had gone missing. Had the Edge managed to nab his blue eyed lover too before he went to battle? The Nightshade hadn't had the time to snoop around before he'd left, and any suspicious scents left were bound to be covered by now. So where was she?

The shade shook his inky mane and looked down at Aramis, dozing by his feet with his tail curled around one paw. Perhaps it was time to go home where he might be able to find more answers to his problems, but the more he thought about it the more he wanted to drag his feet, after all. All that was waiting for him were long faces and pounding headaches, even if he did miss the snow and the dependable mountains. For now he diverted his anger towards the blissfully ignorant sea as it calmly lapped against the shore and ignored his simmering stare.


my heart’s an endless winter
              filled with rage

Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!

Déodat Posts: 174
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 12 HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Odette :: White German Shepherd :: None Minx
#2
déodat,
The crashing of the waves had brought him there and though he felt conflicted, it was soothing all the same. Invasions, battles, mindless wars… they had changed him and made him cold, but the Blood Prince was not satisfied with how his frozen coat made his skin prickle and tighten. His bones had become too large, pressing uncomfortably against his flesh so that it made him feel constricted and torn. He was a liar in all respects on that day because not only had he evaded war with the Edge, but he still stood to call himself part of the Basin. Had he not promised himself to that wintry wasteland for the sake of waging war in their name, fighting for their honor, and proving himself beneath their symbolic rule?

He had thought so at one time.

But he had not truly seen war since setting idle feet upon the snow hardened slopes of his brethren’s doorstep. It made him feel empty. No matter which way he turned his cheek, there was no comfort to be had, no sense of worship or belonging… just an emotionless shivering of the spine that let him know that the day had once again found its way to the sky. In most cases, the Prince found himself utterly alone, not that he minded the solitude from time to time, but with the recent Invasion weighing heavily on his mind, he had resorted to humming chaotic melodies to the winter in order to cure an incurable itch that had formed in that back of his dry throat. Lena had shown him the healing quality of song and though he certainly had no voice for such remedies, at times he liked to pretend that he did. But today, he could not force a single note from his tightened chords for fear that only fierce howls would emanate to the heavens alerting the archangels of earth’s sullen damnation caused by devilish entities such as himself.

Perhaps that notion had sent him away from the Basin in search of something else, anything else to occupy the time it took between the present until the day he ultimately died. However, instead of finding refuge at the sea, he only found reminders of his defeat seeking sanctuary there just the same.

D’Artagnan had always been a creature of the night and as he stood at the water’s edge, listlessly gazing out over the wide expanse of ocean, Déodat couldn’t help but smile bemusedly. However, that curiosity was quickly replaced with a cruel wrenching of his heart. How was he supposed to admit to this devout citizen of the Plague that he had not been there to witness the victory of the enemy? At first, Déodat contemplated turning heel and walking away, but from the way his cousin stared so profusely beyond reality and into the projected conscious of the sea, he knew he could not leave him to fester. This would become a moment in life that ultimately define the Prince simply because he had chosen to face his wrongs and attempt to make them right. With fear and shame bubbling deep beneath the surface of his grim resolve, Déodat approached his brother in arms with all of the confidence and perhaps apprehension he could summon.

You look as if you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. ” It was as if that simple statement were enough to suffice for any greeting that had come to mind before finally settling in beside the Nightshade. The Blood Prince did not look into eyes of molten blue and crystalline brown because he knew that all he would find there was defeat no matter how rebellious he considered his companion. Of course he would find suffering after such abysmal endings… endings he had not even seen the beginnings to.
[Image: QV8O7HU.gif]
Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dA




d'Artagnan the Nightshade Posts: 364
Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed imi
#3

He saw him first, a dark outline against the night, but d’Artagnan knew it was his cousin. The scent was the same and the odd rays of silver moonlight caught on his patch of white that was uniquely his and stained his mane the same snowy colour. Déodat. The Mender’s true kin and warm friend, he had not much respect for the noble clans of his old land, but this noble prince turned out right for once. At least, in the shade’s opinion. Folds of black forelock flopped over one side of his face as he dipped his head in greeting, laughing quietly to himself at the first words his blood coloured relation spoke. How quickly he pierced the truth. Right not the Nightshade truly did feel like he had the weight of the world upon his slim crimson shoulders, there would come a day when he would rise again, but for now the stinging whip of defeat was still raw in his mind. Two resounding losses, the recovery would be slow, but what it instigated afterwards would be interesting. A reason to return home perhaps, or a reason not to. Perhaps if he tasted hornless blood again he would find the familiar spark of fire within himself.

Aramis had turned to greet his molten cousin then, gilded eyes glowing up at him whilst a pointed tail happily switched from side to side. A quiet whelp issued the hell borns hello before he curled up and went soundly back to sleep. d’Artagnan looked at him for a moment, envying the hounds ability to simply switch off from the world, before finally regarding Déodat with a brotherly smile. "Something like that. My shoulders are strong enough, however. It's something much closer to home that troubles my mind." Troubling was putting it mildly. His smile turned playful then and his brows deepened as eyes twinkled in an old kind of mischief. It had been sometime since he’d spoken to Déodat, he was most certainly going to enjoy himself.

"I am much more interested as to what an overindulged noble brat is doing on my beach." The words were jovial, taunting, like a brother poking fun at his younger sibling as he self proclaimed the Endless Blue his own, in typical d’Artagnan style. Everything was the Nightshade’s really, at least he walked the land like he owned everything and all that was in it. It was the best way to walk in the shade’s opinion. As he awaited his cousin’s reply his mind drifted back to his younger days, when the trees seemed much taller and the world much more exciting.


my heart’s an endless winter
              filled with rage

Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!

Seiren Posts: 43
Outcast
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5
Adoptable
#4

SEIREN

Your life means nothing to me.



The rolling sea breathed rhythmically as its frosted edge rested upon the moonlit sand. The waves moved up and down as if a ribbon was being tossed gently in the air. Dark orbs were illuminated by the silver glow the Goddess. She glimmered brighter than any of the billion stars and reflected herself in the hum of the placid ocean, lighting a small path for one’s eye to see. A slight breeze sent chills up the girl’s spine and sent her silver curls to blow carelessly in the whisper of the wind. The taste of salt lingered in the air and stuck to the back of Seiren’s throat. Even though she did not like the taste of the granules in which stuck to the back of her throat, she did think that the night itself was breathtaking. And it was just what the fae needed, a place to relax. Even though Seiren did not care or think of anything worthy of being on Earth, she did sometimes appreciate the beauty of nature. It was the little things, or simplicity, in life that made the world look so much more complex. Simplicity was priceless to Seiren and she liked it that way. She hated things that were complex and confusing, like her past, and just tried to focus on the little things. She figured if she kept focusing on the little things in life then she could get through it by herself.

Soft velvet sands cushioned her dark hooves. Trudging slowly, she let out a sigh that had built up in her chest. Seiren had been thinking for a while now and was wondering about a lot of things that had happened in her past. Not that the princess actually cared about who she was thinking about, but was curious to know what happened to them…

I wonder where that filthy excuse of a daughter that I called my “foal” ended up. Seiren hissed in her mind. Even though the brat ruined my life, I still wonder if she got what she deserved. Ghost deserved death for ruining my life because she made it hell... Seiren cringed, clenching her jaw at the memory of her giving birth to the disgrace and Mauja’s horrified look on his dappled face. Although, her thought continued She probably somehow lived with my luck.


It was true that Seiren had tried to kill Ghost and, yes, she hated the hybrid and hated herself too for forcing Irc to have her. She guessed that because of her actions that the Gods had punished her with the memories. Seiren seemed to be a record tape. Her thoughts always looped back around to the same haunting topics and she could never seem to get rid of them. Her family her family and “oh, there’s a new one”… her family again! No matter what she tried to do to get rid of the badgering thoughts, Seiren knew she would never be able to get rid of them.

And of course, at the perfect timing, there she saw the silhouette of d’Art: His dark figure moving further and further away from hers. His voice was heard as clear as the crystaled night sky even with the waves crashing in the background. Stopping immediately she let out a raging snort. Tension squeezed at her muscles and now she was on alert. So much for a relaxing night… she thought to herself with rage. Even though she was behind him, the sight of her “loving” brother had caught her attention and startled her. Ears tipped forwards eager to listen to what the brute was saying. (Truthfully she had no other choice, but to listen.) After listening to the muttering bay, Seiren smiled at the sound of his disappointment. It seemed as though the prince did not have everything he pleased like Mauja did. The silver did not care about d’Art or Mauja, but she did care to know whoever this so called “bastard” was who ruined her brother’s life.

Picking up her pace, she trotted slowly towards d’Art whose figure was now vanished. Quickly she caught up and then noticed another figure. She did not realize who the other figure was, but then realized ,by scent, that it was her old cousin Déodat. “Well isn’t it my lovely brother and cousin.” She whinnied pretending to have emotion. Standing still she listened for her brother or cousin to reply.



Seiren talk blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

[Image: tablesei.png]


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