This forum uses cookies
This forum makes use of cookies to store your login information if you are registered, and your last visit if you are not. Cookies are small text documents stored on your computer; the cookies set by this forum can only be used on this website and pose no security risk. Cookies on this forum also track the specific topics you have read and when you last read them. Please confirm whether you accept or reject these cookies being set.

A cookie will be stored in your browser regardless of choice to prevent you being asked this question again. You will be able to change your cookie settings at any time using the link in the footer.

Hello There, Guest!

| Register
Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

A Wolf Cloaked In Wool
RP Wanted The Portal 
To put it quite simply, Chase had no fucking clue where he was. One minute he was in a green meadow, and the next he was in this place. It was dark and misty, the air thick with danger. Great. Just where the actual hell am I now? Oh won't this be fun to get out of...

He ignored the nagging feeling of something approaching, instead choosing to walk forward and take his time looking around. It was hard to see, but he'd manage. Everything seemed the same no matter what way he turned, so Chase headed straight. It was a simple little tactic he had picked up from his previous travels.

As he walked, he couldn't help but notice how similar everything looked. All the trees he passed looked nearly identical to him, causing him to snort in frustration despite having only walked for a few moments. Displeased, he pressed on.

It wasn't until he really looked that he noticed something. "Am I shorter?!" An angry snort escaped him, and he stamped his hooves."What the fuck! Why... Just what is this place?" Chase stood tall as he could to regain his composure, knowing that something else had changed to. It was just a matter of what...

The calm before the storm
will lure you into a sense of security
and it will be your downfall.

Asking the rift for...
Magic: Offense: When activated, he tethers a chosen equine to him via a "spirit rope" visible to him and those tethered. The longer it's used,  the worse it is on his body. He can only use it on those has "claimed" at some point either by their emotional connection to him or mating them.
Item: A small flower he'll keep in his mane that, when sniffed, induces a mare's heat.

OOC: Its a little weird for me to be playing a character like this since I wouldn't normally, but I wanted to experiment. Please be patient with me and don't hate him too much, okay?
Valkyrie the Hopebringer

The rain… Incessant, saturating, irritating rain.

It had been falling without so much as an hour’s respite for almost the entire length of time she’d been roaming the Rift; the weather in the murky depths of this (almost) godforsaken underworld, was unlike anything else Valkyrie could recall experiencing. Certainly, it lacked the brilliant, penetrating chill of high-altitude, so too did she feel it could do with the invigorating splendour of whistling winds, snow - even ice - borne upon them. Briefly, she could recall pockets of sunlight early on, scorching, ridiculously long days which had suffered the pink skin beneath her sleek coat, to blister. Either way, there seemed to be no bearable in-between.

Then, after many more months than she could be bothered counting, wallowing in the swamp of self-absorption, sulking, and mourning very bitterly the loss of her beloved feministic identity, K’yarie had appeared and the potential of a future became a new flickering light upon the horizon; confidence reignited, bold and devious. There was loathing, yet lurking beneath the ugly angles of her brutish, burly frame, disgust for the very abomination she now embodied - though why she hated men so, was a scrambled afterthought - but there were benefits…

Valkyrie was larger, surely more formidable to behold. Her strength was grander and her passion was inflamed, not just radiating in mind, but bolstering her body now too (men were driven by physical impulses, it had become blatantly apparent, not actually their brains). With fresh insight into the workings of the enemy, and of course, after freeing herself from the boggling bind of her predicament, she found her ploy to bring the stupidity of the denser gender crashing into oblivion, well and truly renewed.

…and because she was conniving and cruel, there seemed like no better place to capture their greatest vulnerability, than here, in The Portal.

Quietly, leaving no print in wake of her prowling form, the Shieldmaiden slipped through the corridors of sickeningly vibrant foliage - though, she hadn’t previously accounted for the reaction of her burdening masculinity, when blue eyes fell at last upon their prey. He was plainer than most, brown… easily appearing feminine, probably, before, the effect of her curse. His ears tweaked in at the point and the neck plunging from their cocky vantage was curved beneath the veil of limp, black mane. Valkyrie examined him with a harsh, critical eye: there was nothing exciting about him, at all.

That was until -

“HA!” she blurted loudly around the spear’s handle between her teeth, instantly too, betraying her cover. “Was that a genuine tantrum?” Her slender white ears folded back behind the gleaming gold metal of her helm and a sneer dragged the pastel-pink corners of her mouth along with them. Perhaps there, was something special, about him - attitude and dimwittedness, nestled beneath the barrier of un-embellishment, of boring! Glaring, she paused, with enough space between them to shield, should he attack.

Hope’s lesson, it seemed for the moment, was yet to reach a point of traction…


Note: For clarity, Valkyrie is currently cursed - physically she appears as a stallion, cannot remember why she hates men, and views others as the opposite gender.
Chase turned his head towards the blatant insult calmly, keeping his anger masked with relaxed features. He was faced with a stallion less than a hand shorter than he currently was, and quite the sight for one. Had he been a she, he might have cared. His scent was off though, different from a typical male's. It's probably just this land. He forgot the thought as he faced the stallion full on.

"No. I do not throw tantrums. If I had, I likely would have bucked a tree or two by now. I was just startled... I'm different for some reason, and I feel it may have to do with these woods... If you wouldn't mind, where are we?"

If he wanted any information, he felt as though he was best off being polite for the time being. No sense fighting when there were no mares to impress, and even less sense in fighting when this stallion could very well be his way out of this odd place. Perhaps, he thought, he can help me change back?

The thought didn't please him as much as he had imagined it would. Here was a possible solution, and he... He almost didn't want to go. There was something about this strange forest, calling to him. It made him feel restless, though he didn't let it show.

Maybe, just maybe, he might prefer it here.

The calm before the storm
will lure you into a sense of security
and it will be your downfall.
Valkyrie the Hopebringer

Anger, boiling, brimming rage, writhing beneath the surface of that precious brunette skin - it’s what she hoped for, an effect she longed to achieve, the perfect bite on that bait she so dangled. But alas, the stranger’s  refined, feminine facade swivelled around to view her and written through his visible expression, was nothing more than dull, stagnant calm. Valkyrie’s blood bubbled, bitter, branded with the sour hue of resentment.

…and then she found herself wondering with a growing sense of bemusement, whether it was actually a male nestled there, in beneath those fair, womanly curves. None of the he’s she had encountered (all of them did in actual fact, not that she allowed them credibility), possessed the quaint kind of poise that this other represented. He was small too - though not in terms of height (her inflated ego believed them similar). His crafting was fine and dignified, nothing like her expectation that all males were dense in every possible regard.

Valkyrie’s ostentatiousness crashed to a halt, colliding with nought but the stone wall of pleasantry.

Visibly she recoiled, realigning her weight and settling back across the tension of her angular haunches. Ears twisted forward, peering from behind the glamorous adornment of fashioned armour and though still narrowed icily upon him, the winged adolescent’s striking blue eyes shed their immediate aggression, adopting instead a stonier version of his same, nonchalance. “You and me both…” she muttered unhelpfully, vainly, injecting her voice after the mention of disparity.

Then, when he’d spoken his piece, Valkyrie continued blandly with a shrug…

“We’re halfway between hell and the worst nightmare you’ve ever had...” Beneath her lean belly, one hoof slouched. She let her eyes wander slowly, sifting through the fog of pallid rain for the shadows which should by now be stalking him. Perhaps they, predictably unmerciful, would spur a rise of greater excitement from her friend - unless she’d arrived late to ‘the portal party’, this time and he'd already been stripped naked.

There was a strange niggle in her cheeks, a pressure. The cold-natured Shieldmaiden realised with a start that she was grinning.


Note: For clarity, Valkyrie is currently cursed - physically she appears as a stallion, cannot remember why she hates men, and views others as the opposite gender.
Also, Vynter gave her a bead that alters her body language to favour males.
Chase was confused by this stallion to say the least. He sauntered in here laughing at Chase's misfortune, then changes his demeanor in nearly an instant? Just what was going through that dove-coat's mind?

Nevertheless, Chase kept his regal position. His eyes wandered over the equine ahead lazily, more out of curiosity than anything as he listened to him speak. I guess he wasn't the only one changed by this land... I wonder what he used to be like... More importantly, just what had he gone through to say such a thing?

Chase's eyes flickered with something he couldn't place. Not fear, but... Dread? Uncertainty, maybe? It was new to him. Where he was from, everything was laid out before this feet and ready for him to take. Now, he was sure he'd have to fight for his place. Not that he wouldn't enjoy a challenge...

The grin was what caught Chase's attention again. Despite only knowing the stallion for a few moments, he felt as though such a look was unlike him. "What are you searching for?" He had caught the cold eyes of the male ahead of him looking around behind his figure, and was hesitant to turn around. He felt the dark chill of a wolf lurking, waiting for it's chance to strike with the kind of expression his acquaintance was wearing. Could he even be referred to as an acquaintance, if they did not share their names?

Chase didn't much care as he searched the pale horse for some kind of clue... Something that told him more about the horse before him or the thing behind him. A look of pure curiosity caressed his features as he observed closely, memorizing what he could. The toned shape of his near white figure, the items he carried and wore, the odd wings behind his ears... Something was off in the way he acted, and Chase sure as hell wanted to know what.

The calm before the storm
will lure you into a sense of security
and it will be your downfall.

Rift Presence
the Rift
You come to the Rift ripe with magic and items, and the moment you fall through the doorstep the Rift is upon you. It’s a dark shadow, like a stain in your peripheral vision, something you can’t look straight at but you know that it’s there. It searches, flipping through every little inch of you as it sweeps up the things it can take. And oh, it is starving when it finds your magic and the item. It devours the magic wholly, then satisfied enough to take only the enchantment on the item. And then it leaves you be, to become who you once were in a new land.


The Rift is greedy and steals your magic.

It also takes the enchantment from the item.

I guess the Rift really didn’t like Chase ;-; the Item loses it’s enchantment, but remains a flower he can keep in his mane. Just link that he obtained it here in his profile! You can also trial to get his magic back and the enchantment on the item!

Welcome to the Rift! :)
» Presence of the Rift «

Valkyrie the Hopebringer

Right on cue, the shade of this hideously murky underworld began to simmer and churn, like the swaying surface of a restless neon sea - or perhaps the living shadows, the breath and very pulse of the Rift, had been upon them this whole time. Lurking. Watching. Valkyrie forced her clicking joints into backward motion, allowing them greater access to the dull-looking bay, and also better opportunity to preferably ignore her (for there was worn upon her these days, a more delightful array of enticing enchantments than had been on her arrival).

The grin upon the ghostly girl’s pale-pink lips lingered whether she cared for it or not, goaded into existence by the tiny glinting adornment behind her ear; Vynter had placed the exquisite aquamarine bead amongst the lavish tangles of her mane weeks before, bewitching her in the heat of that moment to believe that he was a lover not touched since her final night in Sunnmōre…


The pallid Shieldmaiden watched on with baited breath, curious, nosy, fascinated to learn what powers had been stripped from the yet nameless horse before her - she was hungry for the same, for strength and control, both of which she would wield in the face of Hope for the sake of necessary retribution. Mankind should fall, along with those empowering such brutish domination. A snake of renewed anger slithered through her mind, but it found no traction amongst the waves of preocupation.

Valkyrie shrugged at last; she wasn’t about to disclose motivations with random travellers.

There was no reason she could think of, not that she cared really, to consider, to pursue this conversation any further. “Have fun…” her voice gestured smoothly, vaguely, already detached, focus diverting to the slot in the treelike behind him through which she intended to vanish. Fawn hooves ventured forward, driving a curved course that spared the personal space still between them.


Notes for clarity:
- Valkyrie was cursed here. Physically she appears as a stallion, cannot remember why she hates men, and views others as the opposite gender.
- Vynter gave her a bead here that alters her body language to favour males.
Not a breath after having spoken, Chase was swarmed. A darkness clouded the edges of his vision, unable to be seen head on. The feeling on his skin was unmistakably cold, a beast made only from hunger. It was formless, and yet, Chase felt like he was being search... Torn in to, stripped bare and utterly powerless against the beast he couldn't touch.

He was vaguely aware of the pale stallion ahead speaking, only to then turn and move to leave. Chase tried to find what was after him, to regain some sort of control and dominance over his own body. He twisted, kicking and refusing to stop fighting.

Then, it was gone. Retreating into the trees again as if it was never there, unbothered by his attempts to harm it. Whatever it was, Chase didn't like it. He felt bare, like something was missing. Although annoyed, Chase only glared as the other stallion made his retreat, deciding he'd follow the scent as his way out.

The calm before the storm
will lure you into a sense of security
and it will be your downfall.

@Valkyrie This will be his exit, unless you have something else to say.