the Rift

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WATCHER
He studied the plant he had brought with him, a deep frown upon his face. He was supposed to eat it and suffer the effects of the hallucinations that would come of it. He had so many ghosts from his past. He didn't care to have them rise from the dead, given life through the poison. But he wanted to gain more strength. More power. The world was changing fast. More and more horses were entering his home. Not all of them would be friendly, many could be powerful. Best to be prepared. And so he had bit the bullet and asked the rift for more power. And it rewarded him with a stupid echo that reduced him to a mute and trials that tested his patience. He was given the tasks of getting drunk, and drugged. It was great. This was by far the simplest task he had been given. But it ranked high as one of the least pleasant.

He had made the underwater trek out to the floating keys in order to reduce the chance of anyone finding him in such a weakened state. Taking shelter near the oasis he had taken Aurelia to before she had given birth. He stood in nearly the same spot he had before. He heaved an inward sigh. Best get it over with. Bending down he gingerly picked the plant up and ground it between his teeth. The sour juices flowed over his tongue and down his throat as he swallowed the disgusting plant. He closed his eyes and waited for the effects to take hold.
"Talk."

You have three choices in Life:
Get up, give in,
Or give it all you've got!
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Eat a hallucinogenic plant and enjoy (or suffer through) the trip.

@rift presence
SHIYRA
The past isn't as easy to run from. You try to bury it deep down under miles of dirt. Yet it rises up. Claws to the surface. It will never die. It will always be there. Reminding you of your mistakes, your failures, and the blood you have on your hooves. As you stand there, the poisons of the plants enters your bloodstream. Flowing through your heart and body before entering your mind. Slowly the world around you grows sharper, crisper. Then suddenly it starts to blur.

The trees around you seem to dance and sway as they giggle and whisper amongst themselves. The flowers and bushes shy away from you, twittering about something. Even the waterfall behind you seems to be speaking, its booming voice shouting inaudible words at you. Out of the cacophony of voices a single one reaches you. It is one you could pick out of a crowd of a thousand speakers. Fore you have done so now. She whispers into your ear, her hot breath caressing the soft hairs within.

Will you turn? Or will you run? You know that they are dead. You held their weakened form close to you as the life left their body. You cried over their passing. Far deeper and longer than any tears you have shed before. Fore with their passing, your heart died as well. But they call your name now, in that sweet singsong voice that haunts your dreams. Begging you to turn around and face them. Will you? If you do you will lay eyes upon her form.

Her rich, brown pelt flecked with gold dust glimmers in the sunlight. Her golden mane cascading down her neck to pool at her feet as a single horn of golden glass extends from the center of her skull. She will smile at you, the light of happiness swimming in her eyes made of molten gold. There is a tenderness, a deep love that radiates from within her as she looks at you. And you cannot deny the love and care she feels for you as she whispers a single word. "Brother."

"Talk."

quote goes here!
and more than one!
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WATCHER
"Brother."

The man's heart gave a great throb of pain as the voice caress his ears. He swallowed as a lump formed in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He wanted to turn to see her. He could feel here there. Watching him. Waiting for him to acknowledge her. To rush to her side an embrace her. No! She was not here! He blinked away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head, trying to rid it off the illusion that stood just behind him.

But he could not. She was still there, waiting. His heart slammed against his ribs as he battled within himself. He wanted to turn around, to let the hallucination envelope him. But he knew that if he did he would end up far more broken than before. He would lose her all over again. He couldn't live through that, again. So he stubbornly remained. Every muscles taught as he locked himself into place, head down, eyes closed. He refused to acknowledge her. He would not give into his heart and let the illusion take hold. No matter how much he wanted to see her again. To beg her for forgiveness. He knew that none of this was real. It would fade.

But no matter how tight he squeezed his eyes shut, he could not stop the tears that streamed down his face. They dripped into the sand as he struggled to keep his breath from being reduced to heavy sobs. He felt as if what was left of his heart were about to shred itself. Every fiber of his being shook as he battled to longing within him. Alone, within the secluded oasis, the wanderer cried with a longing for that which he could not have.
"Talk."

You have three choices in Life:
Get up, give in,
Or give it all you've got!
image || coding