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Fever Dreaming
RP Wanted The Portal 
Valkyrie the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Caevoc

It might have been the unexpectedly inscrutable note of her voice that brought the haughty Shieldmaiden tumbling from the pedestal of self-impressed supremacy that she’d been grand-standing upon; maybe it was the thin, nearly translucent film of derision that was wrapped around the bull-horned woman’s suddenly sour words. Either way, the smaller found herself humbled momentarily, clamping blunt molars down hard against the thoughts that begged to barrel forward into thoughtless existence—if there was any chance of appealing to the other’s desire for justice, for partnership, she would need to tread a little more carefully.

Valkyrie cleared her throat, swapping the uncharitable smile, for a slow nod that emanated better a sense of warmth and empathy.

She hoped...

“Yes, it has been raining for a long time,” she admitted, nurturing a more sensitive tone as she addressed the stranger’s apparent dislike of the Rift’s current climate. Directing her striking gaze towards the silvery eyes of her company, the pegasus aimed still more to soothe her. “I have seen months of baking heat though too, so hopefully it will ease soon.” Of course, Drench’s lasting downpour would only ever get worse for the thicker horse, if less than an hour’s soaking had already managed to dampen her mood. Ivory shoulders rolled briefly, dismissing the subject—it wasn’t particularly relevant to her agenda anyway.

“There is better shelter beyond here,” she began, steering their conversation down a new and more focused path; so too did she arrogantly presume that the yet to be named companion, might potentially turn the afore offered invitation down. “Forests, caves, and mountains too. All the usual stuff,” Valkyrie continued, carefully altering the pitch of her voice to emphasise that any place should be more appealing than the Portal. That ingrained impatience began to scratch through the surface of her manipulated demeanour. “The Sisterhood holds residence in the far north... Shall we go there now?” The slender ears atop her winged, helmed cranium pressed forward expectantly, wholly awaiting the mare’s affirmation that their journey should at last begin.

Where they would venture beyond the north still lacked detail...

Currently championing: None

A lone ear swayed forward suspiciously, detecting the subtle change of tone in his company's voice. It would seem that vocalizing his spite somehow appealed to the stranger's sensibility. Eyes of fire-licked silver found those of the much smaller stallion, brow heavy with skepticism.

He offered words of consolation; of a memory of months-long "baking heat" as though that were any better. Such a soothsaying offered no comfort to the creature forged of fire but sculpted by snowswept peaks—he was built for winter, not the vengeful punishment of summer (granted, that was before his blood ran cold). At least the stranger set aside his own selfish agenda for a moment, saving further aggravation to the smoldering turmoil inside him.

There is better shelter beyond here.

Both ears slacked forward, snared by the proposal of somewhere other than here. Vroskar listened as he described forests, caves, and mountains—things he liked much better than unworldly thickets of half-dead trees overrun by phantom shadows. "Is this how you recruit new members? Wait til the shades have sucked the life out of them, and corner them with proposals of all the usual things?" His voice comes as a vengeful bite, holding back nothing.

He weighed the proposal begrudgingly, agitation writ upon his features. While he didn't want to go with the mare-stallion (he had half a mind to tell him to go on; leave him to simmer in his anguish and pray he melt away into the puddles that pooled around his feet) it seemed foolish not to go with someone apparently familiar with the realm.

Were there other members of this "sisterhood?" Was there some troop of stallions running about pretending to be women and this was how they recruited new members? A scoff shook his nostrils: maybe Vroskar, too, was on his way to forgetting his manhood, he thought with scathing sarcasm.  

Filling his lungs deeply, Vroskar willed the bulk of his body up onto its feet. His muscles complained and shuddered but after a few moments he was standing and the blood began to rush back to the places it should have been. Blackness rimmed his vision, making him dizzy, but he blinked it away. Though his heart beat noisily, it felt somehow frail; tired; achingly mortal. It throbbed in his neck, in his belly, in his chest, as he ushered the white one on with a toss of the nose.

"I will go with you, but do not expect me to stay," he said sternly, ready as he ever would be to follow the white one deeper into this afore-mentioned hell.


/ ooc ; exit?

You may always use magic/force on/against Vroskar (excluding powerplay). Please note that Vroskar's own personal opinions and thoughts do not always reflect my own and he can be somewhat offensive/insensitive.

Valkyrie the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Caevoc

The chunky woman’s theory had merit actually…

Valkyrie paused at length to consider the words properly (possibly the first point in their whole conversation that she’d paid the other horse any real regard), though the menace flanking them, like always, seemed to skim straight through her Teflon-like ego, vanishing into oblivion out the other side; crystal-blue eyes never faltered from their stare, despite the clunk and grind of the cogs turning heavily behind.

It was true that those who plunged through the Portal were vulnerable, victims of this cursed, miserable land—just like her. She wondered too, deviating slightly from the obvious purpose of her meditation if this were just another ploy of the male species to ensnare their softer-hearted quarry; what if they were working in line with Hope, the chandelier, to devour as many innocent women as they were able. Indeed, the proud Shieldmaiden thought, the Rift seemed to be a rather ingenious trap.

For a split second, she glanced towards the point beyond them, where the gloomy sliver in time should have been.

Perhaps taking advantage of the newly descended was actually a sensible plan, preying upon their insecurity for the sake of their own—exposed—welfare; Valkyrie had only the very best intentions after all.

The pale young pegasus blinked, resuming her stance in the present moment as the other rose from the mud. She eyed the narrow channels of filth etching passage through the unnamed’s thick, soggy coat and distaste quivered her top lip. In turn, the larger beast made a rough gesture with her own mouth (for a fleeting second the cleaner thought she spied a fang nestled against plush skin), indicating verbally that her loyalty would not be given—affirmation that knifed a deep line of irritation through Valkyrie’s long-suffering resolve.

Nevertheless, the Shieldmaiden smiled quietly, with considerably more reserve, and nodded. “Alright,” she offered plainly in return, already sliding her face towards the direction she’d prefer to travel. “Let’s go.” If she was perfectly honest, this manly-looking female would probably feel the sting of insecurity in her presence anyway (if she’d agreed to the oath of the Sisterhood—another thing requiring attention, she mused quickly), because Valkyrie, of course, was a far finer specimen.

A chuckle resonated through her core. She appreciated the compliment greatly.