The Portal Nothing is ever certain (Part 1) - Printable Version +- the Rift (http://riftrpg.net) +-- Forum: Archives (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=20) +--- Forum: Year 1173 (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=29) +---- Forum: Completed (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=25) +---- Thread: The Portal Nothing is ever certain (Part 1) (/showthread.php?tid=358) |
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Nothing is ever certain (Part 1) - Zahra - 07-22-2017 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils Who am I…?
It was a question long haunting the golden-bellied girl. Nearly a week had passed already since she had swanned back into the public eye (plunged into this, the belly of purgatory), with a sour outlook and poison-slick tongue. The accumulated burden of pessimism, of everything that she had ever wanted not to be, had hobbled her in this prison of unhappiness and hopelessness; and Zahra had nowhere left to turn.
She was desperate…
Misleading vision of her Da’s tragic death pressed heavily upon her moral conscious. Lifeless and cold, she remembered the shell of a once gallant ruler, a father who’d loved his child deeply - but, through the eyes of her Ma. So conflicted (and long lived), was the memory - so achingly convincing - that Zahra had grown to trust those bitter pangs of guilt; why else would she remember it all so clearly if not for the logic of culpability.
In stark contrast, the depressed child knew nothing of the fall of the Starry-Eyed; actually, the flaming mare held no bearing or familiarity in her past, at all!
It had been in one final act of that trademark, irrational selfishness, that Africa had bestowed upon her child’s mind, every step along that path of her own life’s crooked journey. All of the suffering, the constant shadow of sadness, had been sent to tarnish the the spirit of the brand new babe, iced across the surface with a flimsy, remorseful band-aid layer of the frivolous, manic episodes, lived in between. In the same moment which her magic had been brandished, the one-winged fool had robbed her daughter of those final hours together - of their memory, and the crazed, tortured lead up to that brutal end.
The spider-girl remembered the grey - the tormented glaze across her eye - so to the sun-kissed stallion with his golden cloak and the other, massive, with the psychopathic smile…
She remembered fleeing that scene with Bird, into the white northern wonderland, confused and helpless.
Zahra had returned inland, slipping once more into the place with the living, lurking shadows. The familiar weight, of cold, burning eyes watching, raking her saturated skin, did little to daunt the breaking heart within and the chilling echo of those who had been cast down from the marsh around her, had at last eased. With a quiet and sorrowful eye, she sought refuge from the ceaseless rain beneath a narrow arch of tangled-together vine; the eerie fluorescent light which had once turned her stomach, now repelled some of the murk so enticed by her growing vulnerability.
Before that stinging breast even hit the sodden loam, forlorn tears were already channelling down her cheeks.
Da, I’m scared… "I want to go home.”
The spiral of anguish fed fatigue through her core, and eventually she fell hard, against the pillowy bosom of miserable slumber. RE: Nothing is ever certain - Eleos - 07-23-2017
RE: Nothing is ever certain - Rift Presence - 07-23-2017
Dark shadows curl, twist, churn through the air like smoke; their shadowed shapes formed by the neon glow that bounces around the thick undergrowth of the Portal. One can feel movement in the shadows; can feel stares of hungry, feeding eyes.
But the shaded smoke hovers just beyond the reach of this new creature. Darting in to taste, before quickly withdrawing. As if seeing how to savor such a meal. After a few moments of these darting, twisting tongues, the shadow’s jaws open wide to engulf you. Yum. the Rift [ACCEPTANCE NOTES : ELEOS ] Magic: Though perhaps taking longer than usual to enjoy their meal, the shadows do not miss a drop and swiftly consume all of your magic. Normal items are accepted fine! Simply use this thread as link-proof in your profile! (Also, I'm pretty certain there's nothing 'enchanted' about the heart charm. If there is and I just misunderstood, let me know and I'll roll/edit this!) RE: Nothing is ever certain - Zahra - 07-24-2017 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils It was the sudden chill through her core which pulled the fallen girl from tense slumber. Even the potent strength of her exhaustion could barely stand firm against the leering, looming presence of cold, white, burning, eyes. Their sinister, constant glare was stark and eerie against the slippery, slithering shadow of this neon-coloured underworld; though unlike their hungry, blackened host, they never seemed to come closer. Subconsciously unnerved, Zahra’s skin quivered, flinched and prickled as the presence of the rift curled in nearer. Its desire for magic was insatiable, tempted once again, perhaps, by the thrum of the winged’s enchanted veins.
Golden blood surged below that taut, yellow-dusted canvas like broiling, bubbling stew, venting otherworldly fragrance through waterlogged pores in the form of randomly spawned insects.
An ant, a beetle, a fly…
Like tendrils of thick, smothering smoke, the shadows licked wickedly at her slumped ebon hooves - tasting, testing - yet as she lifted her aching, skull into the air, they recoiled and split clean around her, repelled. It was neither the first, nor second time that Zahra had witnessed their hunt, and though her legs slipped quickly beneath the quickened pound in her chest, there was only very small concern strung through the expression. With a forward focused heave and trembling limbs she ascended from the soggy earth, and - though she had been sheltering beneath a bridge of vine - water poured down the contours of her lean frame. She was cold, bitterly so, after days spent soaked through to the bone.
‘Ilham?’
Their bond had grown deathly silent.
The huge weight of loss only served to fuel the fire of depression as it snaked through her resolve, to conquer and command. So alone and forlorn did Zahra feel, that there wasn’t a single waking second within which the prospect of death didn’t appeal. She drew a long breath, wings sinking to the soggy surface of the strange earth and willed the wicked wrath of those ravenous shadows in to claim her.
Not even the cold, devouring breath would gift her death.
Hunched like a waterless sapling, hopeless and tired, she’d failed to notice the arrival of another nearby; it was he who the darkness watched this time, he who those intangible fangs worked now quickly to engulf. Sombre eyes rise to the bait of those flicking, darting movements, and at last the winged man falls beneath the fraying skirt of her awareness. The demise of this one’s power was hardly as spectacular as the glow-lights which had assumed place upon the ugly head of the giant prior; she watched quietly across the way until the shadows began to receed, and then turned to leave, before he’d have a chance to notice. RE: Nothing is ever certain - Eleos - 07-24-2017
RE: Nothing is ever certain - Zahra - 07-25-2017 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils He was the newest in this world of hideous hue and haunting eyes, just another dumped, sacrificial lamb on the heinous alter of an underbelly world; he too (like countless others before him), was robbed unmercifully, castrated and then discarded like old meat by those ravenous, rapacious shadows. Though morbid - in a sense - the golden-bellied girl was fascinated by the process. Perhaps that was the reason she was constantly drawn back; maybe for the obstinate belief within her, that anything would be prettier than life.
With hooves falling silently upon the soft, water-laden turf, she moved from him without any care to look back.
Until…
His strange, rasping voice was broken (more even than she!) as it begged pitifully through the stagnant, wet and stinking air; it reeked of vulnerability, fear. As her lean legs shuddered reluctantly to a stop, lungs sucked slowly a long, wistful breath. Why should she care about this one? What made him different?
They were all soulless vampires, in one way or another…
Tired, wretched thoughts fought bitterly against the heavy, hot onslaught of stirred-to-life compassion - the empath, she reminded herself, had long been dead inside - but her resolve was unravelling and the cold, callous shell she now always huddled beneath, was beginning to splinter.
Resenting wholly his undermining power (though she had left him sprawled upon filth like the pathetic corpse he was), smoky ears slid backwards, pressing angrily across the stuck, wet mane of her poll; similarly, that sodden, velvet nose pinched uglily, as the brazen fingers of sympathy plucked at the loose harp of heartstrings within.
Why...?
Each movement was deliberately slow, disinclined, as she swivelled back around to face him, and the expression that pasty, white face wore, failed to embrace anything warmer than stale irritation; the grim fatigue of a beaten soul.
Narrowed eyes fell with frigid ferocity upon the obsidian span of his well-chiselled features - sorry and sickly, they looked. Clearly a stallion (once…), he was propped up against the stiff pillar of one black and white leg, and though she perceived the golden hoof part buried below sludge, her sour mood defied any presumption that its consideration was worth while.
Without moving any closer, she observed him, scrutinised, waiting for this, his blaring logic that bid for her return. RE: Nothing is ever certain - Eleos - 07-25-2017
RE: Nothing is ever certain - Zahra - 07-25-2017 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils Through the dull roar of rain tempted a word against her conscious - a breath of unreciprocated recognition to skew her staunch mind - and momentarily startled from their sour resolve, those ears wavered forward with certain surprise. Their visible intrigue was fleeting, mind you, each sliding again backwards as the stranger moved in turn to stand; frigid gaze examined the quivering, trembling profile of his poorly body - he perched downwind with all of the ungainly grace of a newborn - yet she failed to find the connection and snorted briskly, a crude spray of spittle, through the wall of air between.
The skin draped along each bony ridge was slathered in mud to obscure view of tinge; swan-like wings, pale perhaps, wilted without vigour at each side, and the palest points elsewhere across the famished-looking frame, were well dulled by this, the filthy brown murk of his bed - his grave… And with a snails haste, he worked laboriously to right himself, only adding to the rising irritation that haloed the waiting girl's presence.
As seconds bled by, so did Zahra’s cool interest begin to wane; her chin shifted east and her attention fell towards the tide of shadow as it mulled ever further from their spot. It was hunting again, lured by the sweet hum of another enchanted soul. Another victim. So distracted did she become - so distant were her thoughts - that the breathy, broken gesture of his humble words, their intention, was not wholly absorbed. With a cutting eye and ears still pulled down across wet mane, she beheld the winged creature in front. "You?" she almost snarled, face contorting with overplayed incredulity.
It was her security - her sanctuary. For a moment, the glowing scarlet face of the previous stallion emerged to rest above those weak, fetid shoulders before her; he, had been fair game, fit and gullible, yet as his image dissolved and revealed again the forlorn impression of this other, her unwarranted anger faltered. “No..." she sighed simply, resignedly, crest bowing easily beneath that old familiar blanket of despair. "I'm sorry." Those expressive ears sagged then, tiredly from their nest. RE: Nothing is ever certain - Eleos - 07-26-2017
RE: Nothing is ever certain - Zahra - 07-26-2017 Zahra & Ilham It was pride that turned angels into devils There was a furious flame in her eyes, hurt beyond words, "my father… is dead!" The undertone wavered and wobbled with wretched accusation, though she held his queer, coloured (uncanny), eye with remorseless conviction. "I sealed that fate a long time ago." The latter was scarcely a whisper above the murmur of rainfall, burdened noticeably by the unimaginable guilt she had carried for the years since his passing.
The Gallant’s bones lay now, entombed below the ruins of his father’s world.
What would he think of his golden-child now?
He was nothing.
Trembling, soggy lips lowered involuntarily to brush against the cold metal memory she wore in his stead. No warmth stemmed from its roots to comfort her now, no breath of that renowned forgiveness; even memory of his beloved face had become but a disfigured fog in the shadow of much louder self-loathing. The struggling girl felt the potent surge of toxic disappointment boil in her veins, numbing all sensibility - such was the power of the blackness long suffered - and with a sharp snap of her neck, Zahra pulled free from the garment.
There had been a time, years ago, that she and Zero had gazed upon the stew of bubbling lava by Helovia’s heart; perhaps she should have thrown the collar, the curse, and destroyed it when the weight had first grown unbearable across her shoulders. She was weak spirited though then, still now, as flimsy as the cold, crystal veil that hissed on down from the sky.
The stallion stood at last solidly, hardly taller than she, and his quiet, meditative aura unsettled her to the core. It occurred to her to leave, to vanish - to evaporate into the aether and avoid this confrontation - but those legs beneath her convulsing, sobbing wreck stood with stubborn resolution against her desire, forcing the heartbroken girl to endure.
Through the glaze of molten, welled-up emotion, she could see suggestions of colour against his washed black face, gold? Perhaps… a flicker of suggestion that was easily swiped by the antagonistic side of her within. There were other mutterings of familiarity too, which beckoned interest to peel from the floor; like a bath, the water constantly cleansed him, revealing snippets of the character lurking beneath sickness and soil.
With a reluctant eye, she watched him, snivelling still bitterly, filled to the brim with enough resentment for them both. Note to Admin: Confess guilt of a crime that she did not commit. |