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Open Rainforest Cliffs 
Erebos
Currently championing:
#21
Take just what I came for

Revenge, the power hummed, soaking within the deluge of his potent veins, and he was enticed by its containments, by its hisses, by its growls, as they wandered from hill to sea, from brine to shore. He shouldn’t have been beckoned, tempted, and guided so easily, but the allure, the beguilement, of retribution was too much to ignore – his mind was a blade, his Machiavellian insights a cutlass, a dagger, a knife, yearning to slash across the false God’s throat. Perhaps his brutal, barbaric intentions were a weakness, one known far too well, one inhabited and exhibited by others before him, who’d tried to lacerate, who’d tried to destroy, and were ultimately defeated so easily, so swiftly, it was as if they hadn’t been there at all.
 
But he remembered. He always did.
 
The once-prince could see their faces, their figures, and their features again and again, in a clockwork nightmare, in a restless throng, in a savage haze. The ticking of the hands always ensured he’d be slow to get to them, to protect, to salvage, to condemn just as eagerly, just as fervently, just as ardently – Aithniel, with her brilliant wings he’d always admired, fire and fury, Ode, part of his bloodline, eternally uncertain of his role but pledging allegiance as the shadows descended and thwarted them all, and countless others maimed, taken, discarded.
 
They wouldn’t be – not again. It was another promise, an oath, a pledge, and a conviction that their sacrifices wouldn’t be in vain. They’d all been witnesses to catastrophe, to chaos, to bedlam, to a one-sided, underhanded, brutal battle. They’d watched as powerful being after powerful being had been cut, flayed, maimed, and discarded; pure, raw precision wasn’t going to be the end game, wasn’t going to be the deciding factor, wasn’t going to be the way they’d serve justice to their fallen friends, allies, and kin.
 
They’d have to be smarter. They’d have to learn.
 
So he stood along the threshold and listened – flicked his ears, widened his eyes, stared down at the other masses of those known, foreign, and everyone in between. Orsino strayed towards his feet, uncanny eyes slinking along the throng, searching for lost raven wings and serval spots, while the scion embodied naught more than an ongoing wrath, contempt, and outrage. There was no point in hiding his dissolution, his anger, his infernal, blazing fortitude – it echoed through his lungs, pulsed through his spirit, bounded through the mist, snaked through the lightning hisses elongating his withers. But, Erebos would allow himself to be educated, to be schooled again, to be made wise and sagacious in a world, in a land, in an empire he had no knowledge of – if only to ensure that the beast in front of them was eradicated. Not this hour, not this moment, not this instant, but one day, when they’d acquired enough shrewdness, enough cunning, enough insight into the lands, into the souls, they’d be able to execute their plans.
 
He didn’t venture to gain anyone else’s eye - he waited, a sizzling, smoldering art of patience layered between his bones. 



image credits
Laume
Currently championing:
#22

THE       F A E       CHILD
.........................................................................



LAUME hadn't yet gained anything from this land. Still, she felt the pull. She was nearby and heard the call. She probably wasn't even supposed to actually be here and yet, still, here she'd shown up. The first to come into her line of sight was, happily, a familiar face. The fae bounds up to the pretty older mare on fluttering wings, Oh! Adria, I'm so happy you're here! I don't think I know anyone else here yet. Are we supposed to say hi to everyone or what?"" The fae child smiles at the older mare and waits for her response. She hoped the pearl-adorned fem would stay and help her figure out some of this socializing stuff because it had been ages since she'd been part of such a big gathering and, really, it wasn't like anyone had ever paid attention to her before either.

The fae had always been a feather on a breeze or the mouse scuttling beneath your feet. Occasionally seen, most usually annoying, sometimes guilt inducing, but not usually one anyone talked to. But, perhaps, in this new land, she'd make some friends. Perhaps she'd even find Roskuld or Mauja somewhere to help her along too!



"Speech"


Coding by Tamme::: Table image was free use

@Adria
Sansa
Currently championing: Reszo
#23

I have been searching everywhere for my family. Both those that share the same blood as I do, and those that do not. Calypso and one of her daughters seem to be sticking fairly close together. It's been easy to send Daenerys and Lady back and forth to let each other know we are alright. It's Sarai I mostly worry about. I haven't seen her since coming through the portal. Nor have I seen Mama Alysanne and my adopted family. I wander, looking for everyone.

However it seems this blasted downpour has other ideas for us today. As the rains suddenly start pelting us harder than normal. The drops sting against my skin. I do the best I can to find some kind of shelter while moving away from the drops. It's almost as if....

We break through the trees and find a large gathering of both Helovians and Riftians alike. At the head.... Kaos. I will never call it by the other name. The one that was supposedly going to help. It helped alright. Helped bring an ugly end to everything I have ever known. To the Gods that we all had followed and trusted. It ended, so many friends and family...

As his voice dies off I find mine along with several others begin lifting against it. "Screw you! I want nothing to do with this place! I don't want to save your home." Lady nudged my legs gently, stopping me from going on. I could feel her fear. I look down at her questioningly. I wished there was a way should could tell me, or show me what was scaring her so...

"Talking"

Sansa
Akriel
Currently championing:
#24
He was late, perpetually late, but the positive was that at least he showed up... Right? He'd been napping in a hefty tree in an attempt to avoid some of the bigger animals around. But he hadn't accounted for the fire ants. They weren't magical or crazy big or anything. They were just regular, God damned, fire ants. He falls from the tree with a somewhat muted thump, thanks to his wings, and runs to a puddle. When he's done he's more wet than he was before but, thankfully, now sans the biting bugs.

Violet eyes glance about, wondering where everyone was. Cas had been nearby and so had Mother and Abigor and well... A lot of other Helovians. "Huh" he muses to the air. Then he's off. His whiskers itch and his eyes burn and his spots all feel like they're about to come off his body like skin stickers every he strays from the invisible path.

Then he's there. Kaos stands before all of them asking, ordering, the Helovians and native Riftians to get along. Pah, how lame. He and Cas had already made a friend from the Rift. The colt find his twin and takes his place next to her, two molded forms meant for each other's sides, then whispers in her ears "Remember to be careful here. We don't know how much we might trust him just yet. He did kill half of Helovia to get us here."

@Castiella
Weaver
Currently championing:
#25

ask no questions

This was life? This was some screwed up semblance of life, if the Rift was worse before they came. She holds nothing of Kaos and it’s only the commotion that brings her to him, though even if she hadn’t come, likely she would have heard him. Kaos’ voice is loud, his presence impossible to miss with the sheer size of it.  She keeps to the shadows, keeps to the edge of the crowd which is unlike her, but her anger boils and she expects she’ll do something entirely stupid if she gets too close. She was not a gift, not a possession, not something to be toyed with so freely. Yet that wasn’t true, was it? Had she not been toyed with time and time again? Her first home ripped from her, flipped on its head, stripped of everything that had made it home. Then Helovia, consumed by Helovia. Weaver, through it all, had always been a pawn. The little girl who would die to save her home. The mare that would be shuttled into some hell-hole to save a place that did not appear remotely worth saving.

Everything he says carves more wounds through her insides. She wasn’t a guest either, but a prisoner. A prisoner of a war she’d never say was right or wrong or had, hell, even be involved in. Yet she was paying for mistakes made by others, by gods that failed their homes. Yes, Kisamoa had failed his home, and the Helovian gods had failed theirs. How does that mean they can just shuffle her about like a puppet and then have the audacity to tell her she was being rude?

She would do as he said though, because there was nothing else she could do. She’d already started, trading information with her glowing fish-friend from the Key, learning their half of the story and their corrupt gods and everything she could about this hell-hole. Knowledge is power, after all, and she knows that it would be the only thing she’d have to fight with here. Sure, she had some magic, but she couldn’t fight this place with magic. She could only hope to outsmart it one of these days.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens
Clementine
Currently championing:
#26
LOOK INTO YOUR HEART AND YOU'LL FIND LOVE

After the not so warm welcome she’d received from the Rift, she’d done her best to hide the Crocodile God’s scale in her mane.  She had it tucked up underneath her crown, and with Prudence’s help they’d hidden most of the glowing by weaving her still short, youthful mane over the scale.  She was glad that she did. Kaos’ call was one that she found she was unable to refuse, compelled to move by something far beyond her power. Clementine knew right away that this place had some sort of innate magic, but this?  This was beyond her capacity to understand. Instead she simply let her feet take her.

Of course the flower-child saw Kaos.  Every word echoed in the sunshine girl’s mind, ringing in her ears and settling into the depths of her mind.  She shuddered in his presence, feeling smaller than ever.  But the creature only captured half of her attention.  Because even in this moment the girl was searching, desperately, for the pieces of her family.  She searched the faces and forms of those gathered for the familiar shape of her mother, or for any of the others that once called the throat home.  And for her brave honey-bee sister who she knew had made it safely here, but hoped was outside of the reach of this creature - for her own sake.

The combination of both fear and disappointment was enough to render the girl paralyzed.  Prudence, even feeling as poorly as she did, still managed to let out a small peep of reassurance as the flower child’s slightly curled ears tipped back.  

C L E M E N T I N E
image credit

Please tag Clementine in every post.
Force and magic are permitted, but please check before inflicting serious injury.
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Akeli
Currently championing:
#27
Akeli
Since last seeing our little sparrow, Akeli has done little more than wander close to Ktulu, and try to stay away from any who may inflict more harm upon her. She had barely been in the Rift for more than fifteen minutes before the rift had grabbed ahold of her shiny amulet and tried to strangle her with it, and she was still nursing bruises. So when Grim, hoarding his warm bottle of fire blood, had begun to hiss and spit within his basket, she knew something was wrong. Despite his normal complaining, she was not used to such violent noises coming from him. She had dumped him from her back and wrestled the bottle from him, and watched in horror as it had fallen, thinking it would break as it hit the ground.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it began to roll along, the glass thick enough to remain impervious to the small bumps in the ground. She was more than happy to let it go; the rift could take whatever it wanted at this point, she didn’t care, she just wanted to avoid further assault. But Grim was less thoughtful of what had happened to his bonded, and leapt away, following after it as it bounced across the ground. Akeli couldn’t bear to lose her small friend to the Rift, so she reluctantly followed, until the vial finally came to a stop. It had lead them to a massive gathering, and she found herself shying away from the voice of Kaos as he mocked them. Grim grabbed his trinket and returned it to his basket, before retiring to his favorite place perched upon her skull.

Guests? Was this guy serious? They were less than guests, they were hostages, forced from their home, and the filly found herself scowling. She knows better than to speak back to someone who so willingly killed so many back home, and she was clever enough to know keeping her mouth shut was more than likely the best option. And then he has the nerve to reprimand them of how someone killed this land’s gods? He killed Helovians! However, she also found herself curious about what she could learn. She has always been happy to learn, and maybe it’ll serve her in the future.

_________________
TALK
A pocket full of posies
Image Credit
Ki'irha
Currently championing:
#28




This has been exhausting. Yet, the starlit mare found the upheaval never ending. Dark circles had formed beneath her eyes, and she had been struggling to sleep. It was terrible to not feel safe, to worry about sleeping, to rest and become easy prey. She missed her home, she missed her family, she missed her northern mountains and the rolling plains.

Somehow, she had known more was coming. She had seen horses dragged through the forests by an unseen force, and her heart fluttered and raced and she grew overwhelmingly nauseous at the fact that they may be heading towards another massacre, but she would not miss it. She would not risk running and hiding while there was a chance her daughter and Mesec were being ushered towards slaughter.

She follows diligently, her lantern helping to light the way through the darkened forest, and she travelled far to reach the gathering. Like a mass pilgrimage, more and more joined beside her as they came to see why they had been called, to see if she would be lucky enough to be spared a second time.

When she finally arrives to the site, Kaos appears, and she bristles as he takes form. He speaks with chiding tones, sarcasm, apathetic to the struggle they had been enduring. Voices and murmers fill the air at the end of his questions, and she finds herself remaining silent. But when he speaks of dead gods, she feels a pang of guilt, of regret. Is that what this was about? Had they done this to themselves? What other options had they had? Those gods had arrived and reeked havoc. They had simply been protecting their home.

Right?

Her mouth turns down at the corners, and still she continues to listen. He begins to hand out orders to the loyal natives, yet from the sounds of it, not all of them are happy to oblige. But she knows that she needs to learn of this land. You can’t fight what you don’t know. She will always be a warrior, but she will not run headlong into a battle that she is not ready to fight. And how were the Helovians responsible for saving this land? That was a curious statement. Perhaps they had more pull and leverage here than they had thought.


How rare and beautiful it is that we even exist

image || table
Otem the Hopebringer
Currently championing:
#29
 
another mind, another soul, another body to grow old.
it's not complicated.


Otem could feel her heart palpitating so clearly in her chest that it was almost distracting. She felt the muscles clench around the beating organ and with every furious and confused breath she drew, her heart flooded her body with blood. But for what? The creature that had killed so many stood before them, and everyone simply held their attacks? Was it not better to die in service of something meaningful, than to be a slave to someone else? Honestly, the girl didn't really know where these thoughts were coming from, but they felt good and right as they rattled around in her brain.

Feeling angry and hostile and directionless, the long-legged girl moved to stand by Iskra and her Father. On her wither Pandora hooted uncertainly while Otem's ears flattened against her skull. If Isopia was here, she would probably have just internalized Kaos' instructions and done what he had asked. Was that what Otem should be doing? Living life as her mother would, since Isopia was no longer around to live it herself? Gulping down her feelings and a mouthful of air Otem looked to the two men at her side, hoping one of them would give her direction.

 

art by Chloe!

You may always use magic/force on/against Otem.
Kahli
Currently championing:
#30
KAHLI
I’ve been stewing and festering and just angry. I’ve considered how to begin to enact my revenge, but I haven’t been able to find any suitable victims yet. I have been hovering within the forest by the cliff for days now, happy to escape the yelling and screaming and overall bitching of the newcomers who just coming and coming and c o m i n g. The rain was unbearable here, and I couldn’t even transform long enough for the pain to be worth it, otherwise I would be haunting these woods like the ghostly woman I could be which had its perks with the whole rain-falling-me-right-through-me thing.

Whatever.

But now, this is where things begin to get interesting. Like the rain had begun to whisper, something urged me through the forest. I could hear voices echoing through my trees, real voices, not some weird apparition like the voices I’ve been hearing since the beginning of this trial or whateverthehell it was to fix these stupid horseshoes. I step through the trees, remaining in the shadows, watching them flock. Some appear to be dragged by invisible forces, others follow diligently, and others creep meekly behind. Like I said, it’s interesting, because for the first time since being spat out here, they seem to be moving with some sort of purpose. So I shrug my shoulders and begin to move with them, curious to see what they are being called to, and remain hidden for as long as possible before I must break free from the treeline.

Some huge amalgamation forms, dark and glowing and ominous, and a corner of my mouth twists into a half-smile. Whatever that thing is, it has a certain flair for the dramatic, and it looks as though it’s going to deliver final judgement. Perhaps this will be a good show, after all. This guy is snide and critical, and I love it.

And then, there it was. It was confirmation, affirmation, pure righteous condemnation, as the god-king placed blame of the deicide upon the shoulders of these newcomers. It was their fault. It was proof. He casts his gaze over us, the loyal remainders of the once beautiful Rift, and again a smile spreads over my lips.

Teach them. Oh, I could teach them. I could show them a whole new world. I could show them the pain and suffering and torture instilled upon us when they had killed our gods. I could pluck their feathers, crack their horns, break their bones, show them how cruel and unforgiving this place had become. I would be more than happy to become a teacher for the masses. It would be my honor. I look out over the crowd, noticing how many children mingled among the crowd. Wow, had there been some sort of orgy before the end of the world? Regardless, it is perfect for me.

I just need to gather my students, and then the lessons can begin.


God help anyone
who disrespected the queen
image || coding