07-19-2017, 08:44 AM (This post was last modified: 07-19-2017, 08:58 AM by Bates.)
They are like an infestation.
Find their hiding spot and suddenly they all come bursting out, crawling everywhere and consuming everything in their path. Well of course with an infestation like this it had its upsides; catch one and rip its limbs off one by one and listen to it as it screams and begs for mercy - begs for death - but oh no death won't come soon enough. Not before you can really enjoy the fun part. Seeing the looks of the pests family, their terror as the blood stains the ground and the life fades from the pest's eyes. Oh yes, one can't forget the upsides.
Lurking, thats what Bates was doing when the portal ripped open and spit out all the little bugs. The stallion's ripped mouth turned up in a dangerous smile his tongue snaking out to taste the air. The air was thick with terror, pure terror, and nothing was more delicious. There was so many to choose from and oh yes! There were even foals of the godkillers (left unattended he might add) it was almost too easy.
It was like a playground at first, but then the playground got a little too crowded for Bates' comfort. Anger began to seep in and Bates' smile became a snarl his sharp teeth fully on display. These fucking godkillers thought they could make themselves right at home in the Rift? Hell no, this was his home and they were not welcomed. Bates couldn't wait until the other Riftians heard about this. If they hadn't already.
Ears flattened on the back of his skull Bates stomped around the dark forest. A unholy shriek shattered the silence, it made Bates' throat raw screeching like that, however he was too pissed tp feel it.
Giving a mighty kicked with his back legs Bates splintered a tree but did not make it fall, which pissed off the stallion more. "THESE FUCKING GODKILLERS NEED TO GO HOME!" he roared giving an unholy screech.
NATIVE TO THE RIFT
Magic: In Bates' past he's given immortality, he was around when the gods were still alive though i can change that if you want to take the immortality away or maybe give it a rather easy way to kill him or make him mortal.
Items: wireframe glasses (id really love to keep)
<3
The world is a strange, shifting place. What was once a magical, bright place devolved into madness and darkness. Then, when things could worsen no more, they fell into a downward spiral of death.
And now? Now they bloomed in some unholy conglomerate of life and death; of revival and thievery. There was no safety to be had—gone was the backwards lull of security that the dying world had brought.
The very shadows were electrified with magic, now; a new spark borne of gluttony. Even you, Rift son, are not safe.
Magic:
Immortality: Can by killed by removing and burning both eyes. * The Rift twists its previous gift with a shadowed snarl at its son who screamed into the darkness.
Normal items are accepted fine! Just be sure to use this thread as link-proof in your profile for the glasses!
*Immortality magics always require a specific 'way' to be truly killed. This magic was rolled to be mutated, so a way to be killed was added :) Welcome! :D
The painfully small pixie crashed through the shadows. Her emerald eyes were rimmed in white and unseeing in their terror. This was akin to the bloodbath that had ended her family’s rule in the deserts of Qumox and led to a life of chains and unwanted attentions. It seemed that the very shadows were veined in the red liquid she so desperately sprinted away from.
Her wickedly quick limbs were a golden blur in the shadows; her bright copper coat a myriad of fluorescent reflections as she darted around trunks. Though her speed did not allow her to avoid all the shrubs, and their twigs tore her delicate, thin skin with laughable ease.
But, still, she ran.
Ran nearly directly into some screeching creature. A short, fearful snort pushed out of her nostrils as small, obsidian hooves hopelessly bit into the moist earth to stop her momentum. Though painfully small, her reckless speed was so immense that she couldn’t quite control where she stopped.
Sides heaved as her bright jade gaze darted around haphazardly; from the man, to his glasses, to the shadows that seemed alive. She trembled even as she ran—thoughts of her ashen prince raining through her mind as she tried to focus on one threat at a time.
“Where—” but the sound was a fearful squeak more than a true word. A deep, shaky breath, and the petrified pixie tried again, “Where am I?”
Bellisma is a Helovian but has no items or magic.
Hope you don't mind her (literally) crashing in ;P
Through the thick haze of anger something shot into the clearing, something very small, compared to Bates. The stallion thought maybe it was some overgrown vermin (which is quiet frequent) but then his vision clears. If Bates thought he was angry before, then this must be rage. All four of his lilac eyes zero in on the little godkiller. The terror that rolled offer her was delicious. Bates was right...it was a vermin.
"You're in hell" he hissed, a deep bone chilling chuckle rummbled in his chest. The stallion gave a wicked smile revealing his sharp sharp teeth and then he stretched his long snake-like tongue towards her and licked the air right neck to her neck. "You're too damn small and boney...godkillers like you are the worst to try and eat" Bates didn't really eat horses but it was fun to scare them.
Bates' tone suddenly shifted.
"Now listen you little fucking godkiller, why the hell are you here in the Rift? What brought you here?!" the man snarled snapping his teeth in anger. Bates did not feel bad for this petrified mare, didn't care, he wanted to stop more of them coming. Once he found out maybe he'd kill this disgusting little godkiller, maybe he'd take her against her will and use her as bait. Oh the possibilities.
07-22-2017, 01:36 AM (This post was last modified: 07-22-2017, 01:39 AM by Moä Te.)
you lose yourself
trying to hold on to nothing
The mare wasn't sure why she wandered back to where the universe tore, but here she is. She felt like her mind has been on overload, and she needed something simple to clear it. Offering a greeting seemed simple enough, but also something that gave her slight gratification. To her fellow natives, she is a nobody, a drifter who talks too much with nothing really to say. But to these newcomers, she can be somebody important, the first thing they see when they come barreling into her world. Her glow being the first light in such a dark place. Her stocky muscles moves her forward in a comfortable trot back towards the unearthly portal, icy eyes looking for any wandering or lost souls.
Her searching ended with a copper flash speeding past her, Who could be in such a hurry? Her slow jog sped up, though she didn't dash to catch up. The scent of a foreigner was easy enough to track, but it seemed to meld with another smell. One she strangely recognized. The forest gave way to a small clearing, where her pricked ears caught the shaky squeak of the stranger, which turned out to be a small red mare. She reeked of fear and confusion, andMoä Te's heart ached for her painful mind. Her hooves stopped her momentum, and she stood at the edge of the place, waiting. The large stallion was indeed familiar, and the colorful mare's ears pinned against her skull.
At the brute's words, she started forward, a sharp snort coming from her nostrils. "It is obvious she isn't here by choice. Leave her be and take your unchecked temper with you." Internally, her heart sped and pounded against her chest. The stallion was dangerous, even to her. Still, she couldn't help but speak in defense for the little mare, even if she was a stranger. For all she knew, the thing could be faking her fear. Moä Te slid her body next to the trembling chestnut, firm in her stance, not wavering from looking the stallion in the eye. Her head twisted, her accent becoming softer as she spoke to the mare. "This is not hell, although it houses some evil things. There is good here as well, if you really want to find it." She turned back to the raging man, readying herself for an inevitable lash.
07-22-2017, 03:44 PM (This post was last modified: 07-22-2017, 03:44 PM by Volterra.)
A stallion's roar fills the portal; it is the Indomitable's cry, the warlord's lament. Volterra bursts forth in a haze of onyx muscles and raw, rippling masculinity, with his huge golden dragon twisting through the sky at his side. His mane is flung in every direction by the force of his movement, his massive body drawn up to its full height.
It is his eyes that are the most terrifying, though. They're so cold these days, unmoved by any emotion that should happen to flash across his face - but now they're blazing once again, like molten fires inside his head. Anger burns in every sinew of his frame, his rage etched into each hard line - finally he has something tangible to hate. Finally, he has something to attack.
"Leave her alone, rossz lény." The voice is deep, authoritative, monstrous. He does not know this mare personally, but he knows that she is of Helovia, having seen her many times during his years there. That means she is automatically an ally against the hideous Rift-born creatures that inhabit this corrupted land, and it means that she has earned the war king's protection.
There's another mare nearby, but she too rallies against the Riftian stallion. Volterra has met her before, and she does not deserve to be tarred with the same brush as this other creature, so he leaves her be as he charges forwards. She has moved to the Helovian mare's side, offering comfort and protection, and Volterra's approval of her slides up another couple of notches. Perhaps there are decent folk to be found in this God-awful place, but this other male certainly isn't one of them. For him to choose to pick on a defenceless and obviously terrified mare half his size....it repulses the mammoth monolith, because as much of a warrior as he is, he does not believe in the merciless bullying of people weaker than himself without very good reason. There is no honour to be found in abusing a smaller, weaker creature that has no means to defend herself; that is only cowardice, and that is something that the Indomitable will always condemn.
With his massive chest thrust out, Volterra attempts to barge the Riftian stallion out of the way of the two huddled mares. He places his massive bulk in front of the women, his ears back and his muscles bulked to their full and extremely impressive extent. "Go," he commands the other man, and his voice broaches no argument. He is spoiling for a fight, so he half-hopes that the Riftian refuses; better still, he hopes the other man retaliates, so he has an excuse to unleash the full force of his fury.
Vadir circles overhead, casting a great shadow down onto the feuding stallions beneath her. She might not have her flame anymore, but she has her claws and teeth, and she is ready to use them if called upon.
V O L T E R R A
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE YOUNG MAN'S HEART?
SWALLOWED BY PAIN AS HE SLOWLY FELL APART
"Now listen you little fucking godkiller, why the hell are you here in the Rift? What brought you here?!" Oh the fuck no. I don't think so mister, and I don't give a damn who you think you're talking to. You're about to be dealing with ME. Lady seems to echo that as her fur along her spine is standing on end. I've very rarely seen her like this, and it's normally when she's pretty pissed off. Granted, she may be feeding off my emotions. Not really sure. Things haven't been perfect connection wise since we came through the portal. We had been close by, and made more alert by the scream of "THESE FUCKING GODKILLERS NEED TO GO HOME!" That combined with what I had just heard. Yeah, we're getting involved.
A dog snarling is the first thing anyone would hear as Lady and I arrive on the scene. My ears are laid back, and hormones are raging. Being thrust into the Rift, unable to find Sarai, and knowing that my child was going to grow up without his father much as I had already done.... Yeah, i'm a bit pissed off at the entire situation. Add to it everything i've heard. Enough is enough. My silver armor is out, covering my wide belly. I am probably due very soon. I am surprised to see that I am not the only one rallying to the little mare's aid. A strangely colored and marking mare was already there, and it seems my own Uncle Volterra arrived only moments before I did. "Leave her alone, rossz lény." I do not know what he called the brute, i'd ask later. For now, my own rage is focused on the stallion.
Flame burst from my heart shaped markings. But this time, well it's different than when my emotions controlled them and not me. This time, it almost felt like I combined with my emotions called it. Not only that, I can control them. We would go home if we could. But we can't. So suck it up and go away. The flames flare just a bit more as if to emphasize my point. You are clearly not welcome here. Lady stands at my front hooves, ready to dodge an attack or go in for an attack of her own whatever the case may be. I know my Uncle clearly had everything under control. But just in case. I'll be damn if this asshole of a rift brute was going to terrify this mare anymore than she already was.
Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem.
07-23-2017, 05:23 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2017, 05:24 PM by Bellisma.)
Bellisma
Her tiny heart—it beats a panicked staccato in her chest the moment she saw the sharp teeth and forked tongue it the air. Or, perhaps more appropriately: it beat an even faster pace, for the terrified pixie’s heat was already racing. Bright green eyes, now widely rimmed in white, dart from the bespectacled face to the shadows around her with a panicked rapidity.
You’re in hell.
Surprisingly, these words did not have quite the effect one would expect on the little mare. Mostly because this painfully delicate small creature had already survived hell—and often revisited one of her own making in sweat-shaking nightmares. However, the affect it did have was a half-stutter backwards and an all-consuming desire to escape.
Her deeply dished face snapped back towards the way she had run from. How far were the shadows that engulfed Helovia? Returning to nothing would be better than returning to hell.
But there was something that stopped her—a thought. Two thoughts, really. Kianzo; the colt she had come to love. And the nagging feeling of a fullness, a new weight, in her barrel. She wouldn't dare hope (for it’s such a poisonous thing)…yet she still did not turn and run to that shadowed death behind her.
Her small, trembling back lips parted, but her paralyzed vocal cords could not push any words past them to respond to the tall, dapple-grey stallion. She couldn’t decide which of his four eyes to focus on, so her scared gaze glance between all four.
However, she needn’t have spoke, for another came, wreathed in light—though its calming hue was put off by the large spikes jutting from her body. Bellisma’s wide, green gaze darted up and down each long length as the black and white mare stood along side her. Her abuse-familiar body flinched at another’s heat so close to her own hot skin out of instinct.
Yet, her soft words did have an affect on the delicate creature; a soft and short breath blew out of her wide black nostrils (to relive the paralysis of her voice) before she could manage a simple, “I’ve lived through hell…before.” Her gaze darted between the two, lips working nervously; her words were not bragging—just simply truthful…and, perhaps the only thing her terrified brain could manage to scrounge out.
“I’m here because—” but, before her small, yet pleasantly musical voice, could falter out any more answers to the snake-faced brute, another beast appeared. This one large and monstrous with a booming voice and commanding air.
And it sent the poor Bellisma quivering all over again.
Men such as he were absolute. They were powerful. Where ones like the snake-man would taunt, torture, and other hurt you—they got bored and moved on soon enough. It was creatures like the black behemoth that were resolute; they wreaked of power, sex, and death; they returned, over and over…Bellisma had been used by warmongers such as these many times.
So she slipped backwards, in the black and white woman’s shadow, using the orb-mare as a physical shield.
Then another appears, and the copper pixie nearly expires. Her skin vibrates, so hard is she trembling, now. Though this is a young mare, which is not nearly as threatening as a stallion. But along side her is a dong—and Bellisma has been hunted by such creatures before. She blinks repeatedly, staring at the creature, before finally lowering in head in submission…submission to all of them.
The Portal
Pissed off Riftian
