The only half decent place she’d found around here was the island. A beautiful place in comparison to everything else she’s seen so far. Weaver had taken to the skies, hoping there weren’t dragons or horse eating birds or whatever in this place, and at least so far she hadn’t seen any. Flying was an easier way to figure out what this place had to offer, but so far, she’d mostly found water lands. Everything was surrounded by water. The Riptide Isles had whirlpool’s and the rainforest dropped off a cliff into the sea and everything else involved swimming to some hidden spot and she would be damned before she left raven on the other side to fend for himself. He was too weak to swim and even if he was healthy, the odds of him swimming were slim unless he really had to.
So she’d mostly hung out on the island. Perks of flying is it made it easier for her to get there, though sometimes she just couldn’t find the place like it had moved or just hidden itself. The place was beautiful though. The wildlife was relatively normal and didn’t look like it wanted to eat her. The food was delicious, sweet little fruits that tasted like candy. Even Raven perked up for the food there. Though not all that many horses seemed to hang out there, and she wanted to see how everyone was doing, maybe find some of the Basin. Certainly they could find somewhere to call their own. There had to be more to this place that just this, right?
She makes her way to the Isles, even though there’s not much there but the roar of the water nearby. Still, part of her wants to examine the damage the Helovian Gods did, wants to see what’s left behind. It seems important, in a way, to understand the damage that was done here, to at least have some vague concept of it. They would all have to learn about this place if they intended to actually survive it. She’d met one native, but certainly there were more, and certainly they weren’t pleased to have a bunch of strangers spit up into their home. Might as well try to make herself fit in as best she can.
He had to get away from the commotion of the portal. Everyone was crying, running, screaming, and the beast did not know what to think. There was too much going on in one are. Nox was an animal that enjoyed his solitude. He did not like being in large crowds of others, and he enjoyed being alone. This is why in the Basin he would go find herds by himself; he remained in the safety of his cave. After that portal experience and something finding his wolf pelt, the beast was weary of this land. He kept the possession wrapped around his body at all times. Luckily it would be difficult for anything to kill him over it. The demonic soul was just unsure what lurked in the shadows here.
Cracked hooves pulled his body through the land. Gray dead eyes seemed more emotionless than normal. Everything he had, everything he accomplished was gone. He left that in Helovia, it got ripped and pulled away with out having a choice. Lucky Weaver was there to help him. He went to the rift to follow her. There was something so different from any other mare he had ever met. Snorting heavily, the black demon tried to get it out of his mind. He can not sit and dwell on a woman again; he can not love a woman again. Not after the last love of his life. Not after she fucked him over, no more.
His scarred body glowed with the eerie light of the rift. The land added to the demonic presence that the beast already had. His head rose into the sky to see this world. Crashing waves roared next to him, and his cracked hooves walked against the cliffs. The land was poisoned, it was gone. There was no soul here; there was no life left. The Riptide Isles were gone, destroyed, and forgotten about in Helovia. His gray orbs caught a figure in the distance. His first reaction was to pin his ears, but then he realized who it was. A softer expression fell across his features. It was the painted woman that he actually cared about. Walking closer the beast came to a halt next to her body. Scared muscles dripped with water from the rain drops. HIs matted mane and tail flew in the heavy winds. "Removing the land has done damage here. Maybe our gods weren't doing as much justice as they thought they were. If they never came here, we would still be home. If those battles never happened the corrupt gods would still rule. It is a double edged sword. Sometimes I feel that we have to pay for their mistake. Other times I feel like they might have helped some of these people. Honestly, Weaver, I do not know what to think anymore." His heavy accented voice rumbled over the crashing waves. Cold, worn, emotionless eyes gazed to the painted woman.
She should love this place. It basically screams of an acid trip without losing your senses. Everything glowed and eyes followed you damn near everywhere and the natives were glowing things and toothy things and all sorts of trippy ass creatures. She really should love it. All she can think of though is how Kaos forced them from their old home. All she can think of is the Basin being consumed by darkness and how damn helpless they all were, fighting someone else’s war, saving someone else’s home. Why didn’t they get a fucking choice? Why didn’t someone ask them “hey, do you believe in the crap your gods do, or should we give you a free pass for just being stuck calling them your Gods?”
Weaver only had one God, and though she had nothing against the others, they were not her God. The Helovian gods and the Riftian gods and whatever other gods were out there all served Death, in the end. The Helovian gods may be hard to kill, the Riftian gods were clearly hard to kill, but they had all died in some form of another. Death claimed them all, in the end. Yet here they all were, paying for the mistakes that they had no say in. She’s pissed, truthfully. Too pissed off to care that the glowing mushrooms in the Rainforest are probably delicious and toxic and definitely worth trying. Too pissed to be anything but a ball of unspent energy. There was no army to train for, no place to fight, and nothing to do but wander this cursed place and hope something better turned up.
Something better does turn up in the familiar form of Nox. Much of the Basin came through, but still, she’s particularly glad their once Time Mender had been at her side. She’d be shocked to find out he followed her though. That possibility hadn’t crossed her mind, but rather she’d assumed that like her, he’d plunged through fearless of death. They were both terribly hard to kill, after all, and it had seemed logical that they would both go first, pave the way. Her thoughts have never strayed to the possibility that she’d be enough to change your whole life for though, even if she pretends that she should always be enough for such a thing. The façade she wears on her sleeve is just that, a façade. She plays at a fool but she is not one, not likely to believe that she is nearly as important as she pretends.
His hooves are nearly silent, drowned by the sound of the whirlpool that screams of the damage done by the Helovian gods. The Riptide Isles were gone, swallowed by the darkness. Why hadn’t Kaos brought his lands back? Why leave this place so ruined? Though she barely hears him, she is aware of another, a glint of a green gem on a horn catching her attention first. She’d know it anywhere, and only turns her head slightly to greet him, lips curving into her usual Cheshire grin. He doesn’t say hello, doesn’t ask how she is, and this is why she likes him. What a stupid question. How are you dear, after the world ended and we were spit back into some layer of hell? Oh, just great, thanks. Fine and dandy and all that shit.
Instead his thoughts coincide with hers, talking of the gods, of the damage wrought to this place. “One man’s justice is another’s injustice.” she says, her tone flat, lacking all her usual flair. Why pretend? More to the point, why pretend with him? He saw through her anyway, and she didn’t mind. “Why didn’t Kaos bring the lands back with him? Why leave is place ruined and tattered and yet bring us through?” She shakes her head slightly, tossing her mane, knowing there’s no answer to these questions. They are just pawns in this game. “Truthfully Mortuus, I just don’t even know what to do.” She lets the words hang there, unmasked and raw, not expecting an answer but hoping for one anyway.
The darkened conversations just flows between the two. There is never a need for an introduction, perhaps is it because there were so many more things he could say. Everything was always so formal in Helovia, but here that is not the case. The Rift is wild and dangerous. Bests here do not care to know your name. They do not care if you are nice to them or not. The beasts here only care about the meat on your bones. Cold gray eyes looked at the painted woman. Her voice was so soft and easy on his ears. It was the most pleasant sound he had heard in awhile. The sound oh shrills and screams would make any normal creature cringe. Nox, on the other hand, did find them soothing. He knew that he was safe. He was safe from the god of death right now. Nox did not fear any of the beasts here. Instead, he greeted them like an old friend from hell. There was no point in fighting it anymore. They were here. Helovia was gone, and there was nothing that any one could do about it.
Her tone was flat and almost recited. His ears flicked towards her, and cold gray eyes watched her form. His head nodded softly. He had to agree. The demonic beast thought for a moment as she continued to speak. Her questions were things he could not answer. He could not tell her why these things were happening, or why Kaos just left his lands in Helovia. Tangled tresses flicked over his haunches as the whipping wind flicked his spider web mane over his neck. " Justice and injustice are things that very few understand. Everyone is crying and screaming at Kaos for taking our home away. Did we not do the same to him? I feel that the shoe is now on the other foot, and the Helovians do not like it. I feel maybe Kaos did not want to be bothered with bringing his lands back. Maybe he has other plans... " His voice was solemn unsure how Weaver would take that little bit of information. Cold gray eyes looked to the wolf hide on his blackened pelt. " I have a sinking feeling this is still not over. Something else is going to happen. When I can through the portal I feel like my experience was different from others. There was a roar that I feel no one else could hear. It came from the trees, the ground, and my bones. It knows what this wolf hide is... it knows where it comes from. " Gray eyes looked over the hole in the ocean. His deep Latin voice was almost held a damned tone."If this force thinks it is going to kill me, it has another thing coming. I only bow to one superior, and he does not walk this earth. Just like you dear Weaver. I know you do not fear this Kaos guy, do you? You have no fears. You are much stronger than most women. " Her scared face turned and looked at the woman with a smirk.
His dead eyes followed the features of her face. They twisted and touched every curve of her horns, every perfect ounce of her skull. She says she does not know what to do. He would be a fool if he did not agree with her. His demonic crown nodded in agreement. What were they suppose to do? He thought for a moment. The crashing waves and gusting wind filled the air, but there was still a silence about it. There was so much that he wanted to tell her. There was so much she could do, but it was difficult to put those thoughts into words. The beast always had problems expressing thoughts. Finally, after a few moments, he answered her. "We play the game Weaver. Except, losing is not an option. We can not change this fate; we can't undo what has been done. Me and you, we will survive no matter what it takes. Only Death can take you away, and only you can take me away. I will not let you give up if you do not let me give up. " He tried to smile, Nox tried to make light of the situation. He has excepted that there is no going home, and he will thrive in this land. Hopefully, he could convince her to do the same.
It is strange for her to feel so entirely at a loss, though if she thinks of about it, the lack of purpose makes her feel aimless. There is nothing to fight. Even the beasts don’t come to get her, though their glowing eyes follow her everywhere. She’d already tried the fruit of the Key (delicious) and the glowing mushrooms haven’t tempted her enough to risk dying. Dying is a bitch, even if she does come back after it. She still has to die and all, and being poisoned sounds like a shit way to go out. If she was willing to be honest she didn’t mind the scenery. It’s not like she cares if the place glows (she doesn’t actually need drugs here, it’s a constant acid trip) or if things snarl at her every damn minute. Though she would really, really like some mountains to snuggle herself into, or hell, at least to train in. Maybe training would give her something to do, because there weren’t even spars in this place. Everyone was too damn busy making sure their friends hadn’t died.
“Probably,” she says with an eye roll, just imagining what plans Kaos might have in store. Plans for the mortals and semi-mortals to watch them skitter around like mice in a maze that didn’t want to be put there in the first place. She sounds more like herself at that though, annoyance and curiosity all thrown into one word. It could be good, she knows. There’s all sorts of potential here that they don’t yet know about, but she’s not in the mood to be toyed with in the interim of getting there. She didn’t have a damn thing to do with the Rift Wars in the first place, and it’s not her fault Kaos let his home get ripped up. She doesn’t feel like loitering in this limbo waiting for whatever plans he has.
She listens as he talks about the roar that only he could hear, and it doesn’t sound crazy but rather likely. He wore a piece of this place already – a trophy in Helovia and a gravestone here. “What’s there to fear? He’s another damn god who thinks he can play with us. I’m annoyed I can’t do anything about it, though.” She flicks her tail, antsy and unable to do anything with it. This is more her than before though, clawing back to the surface despite her efforts to behave as she learned about The Rift.
We play the game, he says, and her mind whirls at that, screaming, but she keeps her mouth shut because he continues. What game though? That’s the problem. The Gods keep their secrets and make them guess and guess and what would happen if they just told the mortal peons of the world the plan in the first place. Wouldn’t it be more useful in the long run to tell them the point of all this? Their existence here saved the Rift, that much seems clear enough. But what was next? Because something, something, had to be next.
His lasts words bring that familiar half smile to her lips though, and she stops caring about whatever game Kaos wants to play. It’s only her and Nox and the sound of the roaring, broken ocean. “You don’t get to give up. I’m not done with you.” She reaches out to playfully bite at his mane, not sure she’ll actually catch it and not trying that hard. It feels good to simply be her though, wild and playful and for once, even meaning what she says.
His body shifted under the wolf pelt. Cold gray eyes watch Weaver as she speaks. She simply agrees with his logic on Kaos. It does not surprise the damned stag. She was just as smart as the next man. She was probably one of the most informed woman he has ever spoken with. Nox looks over the roaring waters. Cold gray eyes study what the gods have done to this land. He does not hold it against them, nor does he hate them. He is not standing up for Kaos. Nox just understands what he is feeling. Land has been ripped away from him before; everything has been ripped away from the black stag. His soul, his life, his love, and what does that leave? It leaves an empty shell filled with vengeance. There is just a black hole where his heart should be. Emotions are foreign to the hell bound beast.
Weaver then comments on his experience of the portal. What was there to fear? He mauled over the question in his mind. Massive demonic horns tilt to the side. The typical monster that goes bump int he night does not scar the man. A skeleton in the closet, a beast in the woods, none of those things scare him. Maybe it was the uncertainty of the rift that bothered the hell stag. " There is nothing to fear, but fear it's self. A god will always play with us, and sometimes we might win. It is a balance between mortal and immortal worlds. A God kills too many mortals; they will not follow them. They will lose everything that makes them a God. If there is no God, then mortals have no one to follow. The world would cease to exist. Everyone has to believe in something. " His voice trailed off as cold eyes looked over to the woman. A soft smile fell across his maw. Her next words were playful and filled with life. It was something the beast had not seen in awhile.
She reaches out and pulls at his tangled mane. The soft tug almost sent a shiver down his spine. Hardened facial features looked over to the paint. "Oh really now? " He chuckled leaning his heavy weight towards her painted body. He attempted to just softly bump her, but the blackened beast was unsure if she would try to move or not. " So what more do you want to do with me dear Weaver? " His deep voice rumbled from his chest. Odd hints of playfulness filled each Latin accented word. Nox smirked raising his brow before looking back over the roaring waters.
Riptide Isles
