ALL FOR ONE;

bathsheba

Frankly it feels like being bitten. Over, and over, and over again. Small insects I cannot identify, landing on my hide, biting, chewing, gnawing. I can almost liken it to the sense of dread in my heart, eating a hole through any confidence I may have had upon passing through. Of course, everything is wrong, that was to be expected. But this? This was something beyond wrong, it was abominable. It made my flesh crawl as I step warily onto what looked like a hidden beach. Like the rest of this place, the air felt stagnant, suffocating, but that was the least of my worries. To the south of my current position was what could only be an ocean. My chest tightened in terror as water spewed up in torrential wings, spraying in every direction, never stopping. Without being closer there was no way for me to know it was a whirlpool rent from hell itself, no way to know that I should have turned back. I should have already known. The little filly at the portal was mostly unresponsive, only adding to the stress on my nerves rather then assuaging them. Any hope of feasible communication was lost, and naturally, I ran. Where was I going? Who knew. What was I going to do? Your guess is as good as mine. (You’re being foolish) Pale eyes reach out across the ashen white sands I tread as a voice in my head begins to sing. The song is one I do not know, as they usually are. The purpose was not to analyze it so much as be comforted by it, and in the past it was sufficient. Now it was merely a passing daydream as the gentle whispers float uselessly across my thoughts. (Don’t look away-). One ear tips back and my eyes are rimmed in white, searching the rugged outcropping of rocks. (Watch out!) A noise like siphoned wind comes fast and hard. Feathers, some creature swooped low, low enough to go in for a grab of mane. Fortunately for me I had Owl to watch my back, if no one else would, she would. I drop my head, pivoting sharply - too sharply - on my hind-quarters to face the oncoming menace. There was nothing there, just empty air. I stare up at the sky, slate grey clouds etched in wide, gnarly shapes is all that greet me. Ba-dump (“don’t forget breathe…“) Ba-dump (“don’t stop moving…“) Ba-dump (“trust nothing, no one…“) Ba-dump (“never look back.“) In a moment of stark clarity, I latch onto my Mother’s voice, and keep moving. "Talk." @Galahad (ooc - open to anyone! ^^ ) all that glitters is not gold

image | coding

Shit. This was not his brightest moment. It had seemed harmless, and they’d done it so many times before. Galahad had gone wandering, lost in himself again. The babe would just go where his mind wandered, and the gold hated to limit the colt. Yet given the vulnerabilities of the colt, he always also hated to send the colt on his own too. So as happened before, totally normal, he’d sent Haldir with the child. Only this wasn’t a totally normal world. And he’d forgotten the little fact that his bond with the stag was…limited at best. So now. His son and stag where out of sight, and out of retrival. Hotaru would kill him. Don’t laugh….he has the scars to prove she truly would.

That was the other reason he hadn’t gone…his scales had been itching again, growing. White small scales, pearly in color, were still growing and stretching down his back. If he wasn’t already half mad, he would be losing his mind over them. Not to mention he still hadn’t tried his magic…The gold had wanted to, he wanted to know if it still clung to him…but he was also secretly worried it wouldn’t be there. That when he asked it forward he would just be left standing there.

So it seemed one of the only good things he could find at the moment was the rain had stopped. The clouds above still threatened, but it had stopped. It at least gave him a fighting chance to find his son. Tracks had led to the beach. Of course it seemed he wasn’t the only one here.

A mare, of white and black…blue? Moved between the rocks. The gold hesitates, he had to find Galahad…there wasn’t time for any distractions. But this mare looked…fun. One hark twists back. And after all, Haldir was with his son, he was at least improving as a baby sitter.

Following the twisting path, the gold silently comes upon her, though he’s not trying to be sneaky. “Lovely weather eh?” He lets roll into the sound of the waves. Hey, it had stopped raining.


OOC ::
"speech"

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity

bathsheba

Twice more I hear the noise like cycling wind. Twice more I am met with nothing but the emptiness of the wild beach. It is incredibly unnerving and I find that I am once more layered in a light film of sweat. It drips casually down my neck, rubbing uncomfortably between my thighs. The voices in my head have gone silent, for once, a blessing. There are rocks everywhere, the further I walk the more pronounced and angry they look. One particular set of stones rises up and up and up into the makings of a sheer cliff. Sharp edges with tips slathered in the oceans spittle. Foam washes far up onto the sand, far enough to tangle messily around my hooves as I walk. With a few long glances to the water I think I may have come to a conclusion on the identity of what raged and rattled in the distance. Tall spires of salty liquid shoot up in an occasional geyser of built-up pressure, making me wince every time. Although I have never seen one with my own eyes, I have heard in passing of such things called ‘whirlpools’. They are like underwater cyclones that eat all in their path, sending lost souls to their end with nary a blink. At least… this is the gossip I know. Do I know for sure if this thing was one such whirlpool? Not at all, but my brain could not produce a better answer in the moment. It is only natural then, that while my brain is occupied, that something would happen. Thankfully it is no more than the appearance of another horse. (Stop!). I turn in complete - foolish! - surprise to find a golden-coated stallion at my rear. He is tall, robust, and deceptively thin. The brown of his eyes spoke volumes while his face remained remarkably passive. But this was not the most fascinating (horrifying) thing about him, no. It was the fact that he could so easily approach me out in the middle of nowhere, in a strange place no less, with hardly a bat of his lashes. It was plainly obvious that he held no fear, at least, not that I could openly see. Pale eyes widen imperceptibly, brows rocketing skyward. How? How could he be so relaxed? Was- was he a creation of this Rift? Was he a design of Kaos come to spin false comfort into my head? “Who cares about the weather, who are you? Have you come to steal my soul? Hurt me? Come no closer!” My voice shakes far more than I like, my legs tremble, my body stiff. He was rather large and the horns on his head looked good for goring unsuspecting prey. "Talk."  @Thranduilooc - this is so bad, I'm so sorry ;_;) all that glitters is not gold

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The gold had forgotten again (how many times would this happen?) that this was not Helovia. That these creatures were possibly not looking for a small chit-chat, and that he, even when trying not to, still possessed enough magic to make him sneaky. He halts himself, his head rising as the mare turns her hot hostility on him. That was unexpected…but then what had he expected.


Harks twist back and his head tilts as he watches the mare tumble over her words. Her anger took him back, but not enough to stop him from taking her in. She was a pretty thing, but barely more than a filly. Or maybe he was just getting older? Still, a pretty thing, but a bit more feisty than he usually preferred to play with. “Easy sweetheart-“ He starts, his gentle rolling mood pulling back, though he holds his ground. His eyes narrow slightly, the accusations letting hit his skin like the mud they were. “If I was here to steal your soul-” He scoffs, some old humor refusing to die. “I wouldn’t start off by talking about the damn weather.” Actually…that wasn’t a bad idea. The gold stores the thought for future uses.


Then the gold walks forward. She threatens, but she’s not dealing with a completely innocent soul, and he could hear her voice shaking. Though he also did not want to be a dead man, and so steps to the side, placing a small rock between them in their narrow path when he stops opposite from her. “The name is Thranduil…” The gold in those earth eyes spark and a small smile he does let curl up on his face. “And I’d prefer you not dirty it before you know it.” He was about to push his luck more, perhaps more than he should (after all she had a wicked looking horn) when a small white light glimmered on one of the stones ahead on the path.


His head turns away, though one ear trails her, not trusting her and her fears. Galahad. Even he could not hide the sigh from his breath, or the cock of his hind that signaled his relief. He may not be scared of the shaky mare beside him, but Hotaru was another story. Haldir trailed behind the child faithfully, though his head was still low. The gold reached out across there bond, but as happened most times now, there was nothing. “Galahad, meet damsel in distress.” They gold looks back to her. “Unless you prefer another name?” After all Reaper was not his. He ignores the thought of the ghost who did.



OOC :: Galahad posting next!
"speech"

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity

It was never his intention to wander off. The colt, now growing into his lanky legs, had only been following Da, thinking. But when he looked up, Da was no where to be found, only Haldir. Ever Haldir. And a sound…a roaring sound. The colt’s ears fall back in suspicion, the portal had had a roaring too. But then, Haldir was not worried, nor did it really sounds the same…it rose and fell…what was that? The curiosity caught the colt again, and he continued on.

Water. For a moment the colt stood in amazement. A whole expanse spread before them of water…and sand? His sea blue eyes met their duller counterpart and spread just as wide. At first he’d tripped through the sand lightly, but on feeling it kick up, and dance under him, even the mellow colt could not help but feel the spike of energy. So with bucks and leaps, he dashed over the sand, snorting and tossing his horned head as he went. His blood pumped harder, and the feathers on his back let their white flames lick and lash out in the seemingly same energy. It felt good though. It felt good to let it out. All this time spent bent over and worried suddenly released into a terror of kicks and rears, playing with his imagination as it expanded to include such a wondrous thing as the beach.

Haldir watched him go. The dark stag was usually of the same mindset, and had it been Helovia he’d have been right alongside the colt. But the sickness of this land still pressed the pit of his stomach, and lightened his head. So the moon eyed creature merely walked behind.

It was not too long after when they’d come down the rocky path, the colt calmer, his energy well spent, but his whole self now awake. So it was genuine smile that was brought to his lips when he saw a golden figure. Da! The pale colt trotted up to him, but there was another, and his smile fades slightly. Flame crowned head turned to the creature, his sea eyes taking her in. There weren’t many the small colt had met, and his Da’s words had been ever so confusing. Was she friendly? Or foe? So looking from one to the other, the babe merely slips in a “Hello.”  

OOC:: Sorry this one was sort of derp, BUT there we are.

@Bathsheba

bathsheba

Everything about this new world, this Rift is just so… empty. The rainforest in which I had been spat into had been full of screams and shouts, cries and wails of grief. Enough noise to wake even the deepest of sleepers. However, in all the time I spent there, the only other horse I met was a young filly named Maude. I can still see the outline of her small body, trembling, pale flesh rippling with discomfited nerves. I recall the shimmering  mist that burned icy scales into her back and sides, the imprint of a tree on her hind leg. I remember my own fit of hysteria and the terror it wrought. After that I ran (would you not do the same thing?) until my hooves ached and my muscles would go no farther, spasming with every forced step. My hind legs, my cursed disease (hush now, don’t you cry…)- “Easy sweetheart-” the stallion begins, clearly disarmed by my response, but swifter than I at hiding it behind an experienced façade. A smile twitches at his lips. “If I was here to steal your soul, I wouldn’t start off by talking about the damn weather.” My ears slide back as I listen, information feeding into my brain like a machine. I analyze his stance, his features, the sweep of his eyes across my sides. The intonations of his voice as he attempts to - humorously - rebuke my vitriol. Is this not a perfect example of my very suspicion? The proverbial ‘olive branch’ that might take me into my most dreaded nightmare? Kaos was alive and well, he was inescapable. How could this man assume that I would know his intentions were peaceful? How could he assume anything? Or perhaps- “And what - pray tell - would you have me do otherwise? Expect the best of a land dead-set on devouring me?” I say, the tremor is gone and my voice is tempered. “Kaos has picked Helovia apart, he seeks to destroy our very wills. Would you believe his creatures incapable of luring comfort into the minds of those unsuspecting?” The Golden man has moved closer, no more than a stones throw away. My skin crawls. “The name is Thranduil…” As if in a last ditch effort of not looking completely incompetent, I straighten myself up to my full height. We are nearly  matched, however, I am taller than him by no more than a few inches at best. Our bodies could not have been anymore different. He held the telltale signs of a warrior, a fighter, someone who has lived his life fighting for- whatever. A layer of toned muscle lies dormant beneath a manicured suit of bronzed gold. Eyes the color of earth stare down at me with thinly veiled mirth. He is not afraid, not in the slightest, not of me. I am softer, my body thicker, back longer, curves wider. The tip of my tail twitches against the ground, dragging tangled black hair through the bone-white sand. “I… I am B-!” Suddenly a child has appeared and I start back a few steps. The stallion, Thranduil, turns to face the youngling with a look of fondness. They know each other, clearly. No such look is reserved for strangers. Then he is turning back to face me, those brown eyes - now tinted with gold? - meet starshine-silver blue, and the air rushes out of my lungs. “Galahad, meet damsel in distress… unless you prefer another name?” (Speak now or forever hold your peace!) “Sheba. My name is Sheba, of Helovia.” "Talk."  Galahad all that glitters is not gold

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His humor did not ease her fears. She snaps back at him, and the gold can only roll his eyes. Doom and Gloom. Maybe that should be her nickname. Suit her well enough. Though she did have a point, one he couldn’t so easily cast aside. For the thousandth time, this was not Helovia. This place was not safe. Not that Helovia was either, but compared to this it was practically a nursery. He watches her through dulled as she ever so kindly reviews what no one needed reminding of. That Kaos ruled here. That he had destroyed their Gods. They all may be god-killers, but she was a mood-killer. “Are you always this cheery?”

Then his annoyance at her mud splattering campaign let loose. “Don’t want to get eaten? Don’t let your voice shake.” His eyes narrowed, she’d corrected it in the last, but the first words out of her lips gave her away. Was the gold fearful of the world they now inhabited? Hell yeah. His son was on fire. Step wrong and he could burn himself to death. He himself was growing scales. And if that wasn’t weird enough there ever were eyes watching from every corner. How could you not feel the cold claws of fear creep under your skin? But if you show that fear…if you let it come to the surface, then it controls you. If you let your voice tremble, his hide twitch, and your knees shake, then you might as well have already lost your soul, whether the creature following you was seeking it or not.

Of course he doesn’t get to impart his words of wisdom as Galahad comes up. The colt lightens the mood back up, and the irritation seeps away back into humor. He almost misses then her slip, I am B…But then he introduces her, and she switches? Sheba. But had she not been starting with a B. Harks twist back, and he watches her. Then he lets it go, perhaps she was just about to call herself a Bitch and he wasn’t about to correct her on that. After all it is rude to correct ladies.

It does not go unmissed that she’s take a few steps back, and the gold is not one to let her get away with it. Especially not with this ill humor she’s dragged forth. “My son’s just a foal…he’s not here to steal your soul either.” He lets it roll out as if in mock, a tired strain in his voice. She started it though. Honestly, it was bad enough when real mud got on his golden coat, but the filth she had tried to put on it was disgusting. Then he really lets the Cheshire grin loose. “It’s probably too salty for him anyway.” The crowned head tilts, the earth eyes sparking with their mischief, while Haldir only sighs.


OOC :: Galahad posting next!
"speech"

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity

Galahad had never been around Da when he was in this mood…with strangers. Sure he and Ma had tossed their wits, and he’d seen that same grin many times, but never against someone new. Someone Da didn’t even know. The colt thought back to when he’d met Castiella, how he’d said hello, and went about what now seemed a standard conversation. Did adults not have to do that?

The mare though does step back, the colt’s ears turn back, unsure. Was she scared? Scared of Da? But…that was silly. Da was just being him, he wouldn’t hurt her. (Would he?) The colt lifts back up though to hear her name. His own gentle smile comes through. “We’re from Helovia too.” Share something similar. That’s what he had done with others right? Show them their the same, then maybe they will like you. But Da didn’t seem to be in the ‘want them to like you’ goal set. Though his words left his son in the dark of ignorance. Why would Galahad want to steal her soul. The colt looked more confused to the mare. What was Da talking about salty? His tongue holds. Yet the insecurity of his misunderstanding draws him closer to his Da’s side (even though his Da was the one causing the problem), not too close. He dare not forget the flames upon his back.

OOC:: Thran's on a role, Gal is derping...oh well.
@Bathsheba

bathsheba

Galahad, the child’s name was Galahad. If I was being honest - which I currently am - it sounds strange on my tongue, reminding me of far off lands rather than the one I grew up in. It was a nice strange, I think. His manners were impressive, quiet smiles and curious sniffles without being too invasive. I almost questioned the validity of his parentage while Thranduil spun half-hearted taunts over imaginary offenses. The golden beast was either lacking in his faculties or purposely ignoring my frightened concerns. (Don’t let him get to you darling,) Owl’s soft whisper tickles the shell of my ear. (He spins nothing but false pretenses, he is a man.) (He is a liar.) I cock my head, just barely noticeable as Asterisk speaks his opinion. It has been many days, at least since Helovia, that I have heard his voice. It is bold and wary, as I should be, as I am. Thranduil’s words are sharp, “It’s probably too salty for him anyway.”, and his smirk gilded with judgment. My ears slip and slide across the crown of my head, I am unsure of what to think, or if I should consider his opinion at all. He has clearly forgone my own. “Oh shut up would you?” I snap as irritation begins its slow ascent through my veins. If I know anything, it is that I am afraid and unappreciative of his treatment of it. My skin yet trembles, eyes sweeping over the two bodies before me and the wicked rocks on the beach. There is something else, something… new creeping at the back of my head. Almost like, almost like being (watched). THUM “What‘s that?” My voice quakes, my head whips about, searching. THUM It comes again, and I swear- it is closer. I look toward Thranduil to see if he hears it too, or perhaps… I am beginning to imagine things. "Talk."  Galahad (ooc - ooooh spooky) all that glitters is not gold

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To say the conversation had soured was an understatement. Even the gold, though his humor and wit were rolling with the punches, was growing tired of the chit-chat. With colt in toe now the gold was about to bid the ill mare good-bye. She’d asked him to shut up hadn’t she, and as he thought about all the things he had left to say, that she wouldn’t want to hear, he couldn’t foresee any other way of them getting what they wanted. Besides, the colt at his side was creeping closer to him. The earth eyes glance down once, and a hark tilts back. Was his son…shy? He hadn’t thought he’d raised him like that. Perhaps the colt had met so few adults it was a new event, especially when he and the mare were going at it. Still, the gold did not regret it. Maybe he’d explain to the child on the long walk back to their grovel.

“Well, it hasn’t been a ple-“THUM A noise cuts off his heartfelt goodbye. The gold’s head jerks upright, and his relaxed body goes rigid. Harks twist and nares pull at the air. Even Haldir backs away from the open spaces towards the small group. Horses walking along the beach could be approached no problem. But creatures that make bumps in day…not always who he wanted to meet. Especially one who made that big of noise. “That, dearie, is someone who might find your soul tasty.”

THUM He goes to step forward, to investigate. A bump hits leg. Galahad. Harks fully pin down. Shit…Suddenly a ticking clock turned stopwatch begins counting down. The gold shivers, his mind instantly racing. He looks back up around them, but the rocks, besides the ones close, are low, and the breeze from the ocean wouldn’t let the scent of a fly hide. Teeth grind as he looks back the other way, but it is the same. If anything happened to the colt…he might as well let the monster kill him. It would be more merciful that Hotaru’s revenge.

He hated the idea the instant it came to him. He hated it, because it asked a favor from someone he didn’t exactly deserve one from. Earth eyes look down to his son as the hairs still left on his back (not many given the white scales) bristled and rose with warning. No matter what the gold’s pride, in this moment, his son came first. The crowned head tossed up to her. “Take him-“ Another loud noise rattled the pair. With harks flat on his neck and earth eyes cold, revealing the reluctance of this, he concludes. “-please.” Then, as the moments press against him, time running out, he reaches down and with a jerk of his head, attempts to shove the fire colt toward the mare.



OOC :: Galahad posting next!
"speech"

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Image by the AMAZING Vossity