You hear the call as you hear your thoughts, your heartbeats, feel it as you feel your instincts. You can't quite decide if it's something you actually heard, or if it's just one of those Rift things. The memory of nearly falling out of the sky several times when a foreign voice slithers through your mind isn't faded, just not as fresh anymore. Speaking of, you haven't seen Kisamoa in a while. While you're certain the deity, whatever he was, could take care of himself, you can't help but worry. He really wasn't looking good.
You muse upon what gods do as you fly towards the Pinnacle.
Once you arrive, you scan the crowd for familiar faces, and you're rewarded with many. Herd-mates, and others: the ice girl who left, the sleek, dark stranger you danced with. It feels so long ago, a dream.
To your disappointment, Taivas is nowhere to be found. You swallow the emotion, spiraling down towards the ground as the Protector reveals he had no reason to throw a party, aside from just feeling like it.
Standing upon the solid earth again, you tuck your wings and glance around, finding yourself stuck in your usual bleak, desolate disposition. You've been here a good long time, you have a home, you have friends, but you still don't know how to move on.
Waker would like a mystery item!
Waker says YES to mutations!
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
He had enough experience by then to know that, if left to his own devices, he'd do little else but stare at the painfully familiar walls of the Heimasborg and slowly waste away. He was thin enough as it was, anyway; matted, thick fur clung to an angular and narrow frame. Perhaps once in his life he had been majestic, but now he was not, with his hollow back, sunken sides, and thin neck.
He looked like he had starved all winter, and perhaps he had. It was difficult to know with one who couldn't die.
Diego, on the other hand, looked grand. The owl's feathers shone, his eyes bright, his belly round and full with mice and other rodents he hunted down in the mountain fortress. There wasn't much else for the owl to do except sleep and eat, so he did both, in large quantities.
They missed Irma.
The owl rode on Mauja's withers, his talons pricking skin already black with scars.
His weight was different from Irma's. His grip was different. His soul was different.
And yet, some days, they did not think of her at all, just as some days, they didn't think about Psyche, his brother, Snö, Tamlin, d'Artagnan, Aviya, Kahlua, Glacia, Ophelia, Elding, Tembovu, and all the others they had lost.
Forgetting her, a piece of his soul, had seemed outlandish as he had frantically scoured the Rift for signs of her, but here they were. Life without Irma had begun to seem.. normal, however "normal" staring at walls day in and day out was.
The drab, thin stallion stepped hesitantly onto the rolling sands and flat, hard earths of the East. He was not one of them, those clustered by the base of the spiraling, lone mountain. Some of them had been of his homeland (homelands? he had two), but none of them mattered.
No one mattered.
Saying nothing, the rugged ghost hung back, staring at the others with dead eyes.
man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
Something from his Aspirations, please! Mauja
And yes to a mutation. <3
Korri was quickly distracted. New arrivals continued to trickle in; he caught sight of a few through the crowd. Some new faces, some he recognized from Halyven. He wondered if he ought to greet them. Make himself better known to his comrades of the moment. But then something else happened: the Protector's booming voice rang out across the gathering. Korri tensed. Swung to face the beast. But only joy rang in its tones. Joy and mirth. Korri's expression settled. His ears came forward, a sort of curious wonder lingering in his eyes. "Have fun?" he echoed, as if this were a foreign sentiment. He felt himself laughing, a little baffled and a little amused. Have fun. Well, if he must.
But then there was more. The gifts arrived without warning, falling upon others near him before his own found their way to him. The first — he noticed the first with confused awe. The small, dark charm so similar to that lost piece of his heart. It settled against his chest as if it knew this, hanging from a simple cord which quickly lost itself in his mane. Korri tilted his head to examine the thing: the stylized raven, the comfortable weight of it. He felt strange suddenly, almost panicked. As if he needed to leave — as if no one else should be present while he felt this way.
He retreated several steps, realized he was probably visible to the other partygoers, and froze. Somewhere between the delight and something else, something not in itself bad, but certainly unfamiliar.
ooc// he's sort of overloaded I don't think he's ever received a gift no strings attached before in his life. anyone can notice and/or bother him if they like
collect your tears, shoot 'em down
even giants hit the ground
You glance over your shoulder to find Savera already wandering away. With a snort, you turn to follow her. What could she be up to, now? Approaching an ugly horned man, a stranger, just to ask questions. What does the stranger know, anyway? Reluctantly, you follow in her brilliant wake, a cold darkness against the soft brilliance of her manner, her voice. You don't know what she's up to, but you hang in the background just in case she gets in over her head. Aside from this, you're content to let her act. She seems to enjoy herself around others, and you prefer to see her happy.
Your attention is torn from her, anyway, by the sudden boom of the Protector's voice. Wings half-flared, you spin to face him, your eyes narrowed. A party? What for? What in the Rift deserves to be celebrated? You glare at him for a moment longer, eyes narrowed, before you notice the gifts appearing on and around the others. Another snort. You step closer to Vera, carefully inspecting her, hoping nothing strange touches the pair of you. You don't need Rift-born gifts. You probably do need to get the hell out of here before anything else strange happens.
Though Zahra had been living in the Rift for longer than she cared to remember, she was immediately surprised to discover that many of the faces she passed along the way through the crowd, were unfamiliar. It occurred to her, jarring her conscience and prickling her skin, that Eleos and herself had been living in the shadows for too long, avoiding their unfortunate circumstances and choosing the shackles of a pessimists mind, over freedom (him more so, she quickly corrected).
Light, golden eyes surveyed the expressions around her, noticing easily that most others seemed cheerful and without the burden of resentment that she’d allowed to be sewn into her skin.
Before she knew it, the painted weaver’s white face had softened and her sooty lips had curled into a genuinely, jovial grin. So immersed in the moment did she become; basking in the warmth summoned by their host and revelling in the sound of conversation, of laughter, of others, that thought of her friend hiding beyond reach, slipped her mind entirely.
When the Protector lowered his enormous body to crouch before them and speak, Zahra had already come upon the other side of the gathering. Her hooves stilled, haunches swivelling slowly until she faced the front, and with dark ears pitched forward, the golden-bellied mare listened with interest. The Rift native thanked them warmly, affirming that the party was theirs and that they should enjoy themselves—already, she was. As the volume of the music again lifted, her whiskered chin turned to the right and she found a stranger beside her; a stallion, black, with a tall, lean neck and beads dotted through the mane veiled down its length .
“Hi there,” she smiled, beating back the wave of unexpected shyness as it threatened to upheave her unexpected confidence, “I’m Zahra…” Though around them the shock of new possession rolled like a tidal wave through the crowd, the draper didn’t instantly notice the change taking place in herself—neither was the figure before her familiar, so the emergence of wings, a bird perhaps on one side, did not come as a surprise.
07-21-2018, 03:56 AM (This post was last modified: 07-21-2018, 05:08 AM by Amarantha.)
Amarantha looked up as a winged golden figure approached her with a forward, friendly air. She was surprised to be addressed by the stranger. Surprised, and charmed. After so long alone and outcast, it was strange to be addressed like just a normal person who belonged.
Before she could answer, the Protector spoke. A party? Fun? If she were strictly honest, Amarantha had to admit it was rather out of her wheel house. But she should at least try to fit in here.
She watched with interest as gifts came floating down all around. Nothing came to her, but she could feel something touch her - similar to what happened when she first came to the portal, but instead of taking away, it felt like it had given something back. Not the full extent of her former abilities - she could still feel the emptiness. But it was now just a little less empty
She turned excitedly to her companion - whose name she still hadn't learned - but saw that he seemed distressed somehow.
"Are you all right?" she asked gently. "Is something wrong?"
He retreated a couple of steps and Amarantha stayed back, respecting the need for space.
Amarantha
You were named for the Amaranth Whose bloom means life unending And whose name means "Love Lies Bleeding"
He was alone. Until he wasn't. A horse came to him. Asking him what was up as if he knew. He looked at @Savera with a stoic expression. "A party." He grunted. "Seems the Protector was lonely." He didn't say much more. He had little need since the host of the party began speaking. If anyone didn't know why they were here, well, they were morons. He preyed to what ever god would hear him that said morons would not approach him.
His head canted to one side at the giant creature's words. His head shot up as a strange sensation ran through his shoulders. It itched like crazy! His head swung around to bite at his shoulders. When he saw something strange, and very disturbing. It was also very fascinating as he watched his metal wings begin to merge with his skin. More like his body was opening up to take them in. What the heck? He was certain that this had to do with the mountain monster. It seemed everyone was getting a gift or two. Not that he cared all that much. He was still too interested in his strange mutation going on with his own body.
talk talk talk talk
Watcher
I'm sorry if you don't like my honest. But to be fair, I don't like your lies.
You have my permission to use magic/force against Ru.
Maiming and killing is not allowed. You can always message me if you're not sure about anything/want to plot something out. =D Avatar Credits
He grinned. That grin grew when he saw new and familiar faces alike. He bowed to the Protector. Then stepped back to enjoy the party. He smiled to @Rixen, @Kiada, and @Korri. He caught a glimpse of @Seiji, but he held back. The black stallion would come to him when he was ready. As he walked he reached out toward @Waker in a gesture of greeting before walking towards a familiar form. Little @Eira.
"Hello little Dove." He said, lowering his nose to touch her's. His warm gaze matched the smile he held for her. She was like a daughter to him. He wanted so badly to heal her body. To see her better fed. Hopefully her time within the herd would help her to gain some weight. Poor thing needed more meat on her bone. Suddenly he felt a strange sensation. His head perked up, ears forward. He looked around. Then back. That was when he noticed something different. His spines were glowing. "Well would you look at that." He said. His head cocked to one side as he inspected his new gift. This was most certainly new!
talk talk talk talk
Roscorro
I believe this world ain't half as bad as it looks. I believe most poeple are good.
Valkyrie hadn’t seen the goddess-the real one, not pseudo like Hope—for a good number of months, not since the moment that she’d acquired the combustible spear from the idiot stallion by Utwaritace. With that task completed, the white, winged adolescent had ventured south towards the Portal, unsure for what she was particularly searching (power usually), and from there, on into the frigid northern realm; all of which felt furthest away from the point which K’yarie had been last seen.
In truth, the brazen young masculine-looking female had quite enjoyed her liberation, the period of freedom, without the cramp of adult perspectives and boring accountability—not that she was actually responsible for anything, except maybe her beloved possessions.
Anyway, as she skirted the perimeter of the crowd, not especially interested in what the monstrous monster by the glowing crack had to say, she spotted the familiar stream of K’yarie’s magnificent mane and suddenly the sourness of her mood sweetened slightly. At least there would be someone intelligent to converse with; not to mention, it would be the perfect opportunity to flaunt her fresh sophistication. The Protector finished talking, thankfully, for his voice was too loud, just in time as Valkyrie found the flank of her idol.
“K’yarie,” she hummed, drawing a long breath filled with the enchanting, musky flavour of the once delicious-looking woman; she thought to ghost pink lips along the taut, warm skin across the other’s barrel, but refrained, her nose pinched, when the angular breadth of a stallion killed the mood. Though the time between their reunions grew longer each time—entirely the selfish, young Shieldmaiden’s fault—Valkyrie frowned, almost sadly, and stated, “Where have you been hiding this time? I have missed you a lot—” a lie, though cleverly concealed, for far grander priorities had more than filled her time.
Then something happened, a thing that was entirely unexpected, a strange kind of warmth filled her core, heart and mind, and she felt suddenly invigorated. Clear blue eyes bounced off the surrounding faces before settling again on K’yarie’s, curious to see whether the sensation had been her’s alone—she didn’t say anything though, of course—she quite fancied it as a self-indulgent secret.
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.
@K'yarie
A familiar presence. That familiar voice. It had been some time since the goddess had seen her follower. She had begun to wonder if the maiden would ever return. For the first week she had worried. She had become used the constant worshiping. But now that she had been without the mare, she wasn’t all that concerned. She had given up hope in helping her. The maiden would not change. Even Hope’s curse had done little but change the outward appearance.
Still she hid any feeling she had. A pleasant, gracious smile upon her lips. As warm as ever. She turned with the grace of a ballet dancer. “Valkyrie.” She purred, offering her nose for the other to approach and touch. At her question she smiled. “Communing amongst my stars and shadows.” To this the stars within her pelt appeared. Whispering words into her ear. She flicked one their way to lend them an ear. They spoke in a tongue only she could understand. Ancient, not of the world they knew. A soft smile touched her lips as if they shared with her a pleasant knowledge. Amusing, or perhaps something far more mysterious. “Where have you been, my dear? ” Her head tilted in a curious manner as a strange feeling washed over her. Odd. No doubt a gift from their gracious host.
talk talk talk talk
Fear not this Night. You will not go Astray Though shadows fall, still the Stars find their way
The Pinnacle
