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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook
» In the End
Open The Pinnacle 
Kisamoa
Currently championing:
#31
Anger; always so close beneath the surface. A comforting blanket, so easy to turn to, a spark for the hungry kindling. He was greed and guilt and flimsy self-control.

He was four dead gods, and not a team player.

They had separated into four corners because they had once been wise and graceful, and then remained apart for such was the way it had always been—and then, they had all died, anyway. Kaos's dark eyes blinked as he stared out over the gathered horses and creatures, their dance stilled by Hope's emergence, their quest ended. He envied them the lightness of their feet, the lightness of their hearts, this moment of joy when all he felt was the world weighing down on his aching shoulders.

She strode over to him, swift and certain. His eyes narrowed, muscles trembling, her radiant aura scorching his piecemeal soul. She was everything he was not: elegant and light, and ..confident. He hated to admit it.

”Do not place the blame on the Matron. She did not know.” Her voice was quiet, and Kisamoa merely tilted his head in acknowledgment. Part of him wanted to yell that it didn't matter, that he put his blame wherever the hell he pleased, but he held his tongue. "And what's, pray tell, our purpose?" he hissed, bitter and venomous, but she merely touched her awfully warm head to his shoulder; a blinding, searing pain.

No one else seemed to shy away from her, as if stung by her presence. Blinking the aftermath of the agony and the rage from his eyes he concluded that whatever it was that had happened, happened only to him.

Perhaps he was allergic.

And even as she praised and thanked him, it was her moment; she controlled it, and he hated the feeling, hated being at a loss for words. Nothing but snarls and sneers wanted to crawl onto his lips; his mouth twisted into a hideous grin of sorts as she spoke of the Hopelights.

Then, his own orb collided loudly with his hip, and he flinched. Whatever shape it took was hidden in the seams of his shifting body, a smear of radiant light; Hope disappeared just as Kisamoa turned to snarl at her.

"Well," he said, his voice irritated, "that's one way to ensure you have the last say." His long, matted tail curved behind him as he took a couple of steps along the rim of the gathering, before he paused and raised his horrific head. "I suppose we'll continue her party without her."
beauty in darkness
kaos in light
.. and kaos opened up its eyes
K'yarie the Hopebringer
Currently championing:
#32
K'yarie
Her eyes never left Hope. So much she had never known about her own world. It left K'yarie wondering what else they could discover. She let the moment wash over her as she observed those around her. It was rather amusing, watching Kis act the way he was towards the newly awoken goddess.

Like a child who was forced to share his toys with someone else. He certainly was not happy. Curious. The native held little loyalty to either god. Yet she was far closer to Kisamoa than Hope. She wondered who she would serve, if there ever was a war between them. The world was only so big, after all.

Suddenly, her shinning ball began to bounce. She glanced at it her head cocked in curiosity. The thing went mad. Flipping and bouncing before slamming into her right shoulder. Where it remained, sinking into the flesh and creating a weaving symbol the resembled a star and a Triquetra symbol combined. It glowed like a new consolation within her pelt. Somehow she wasn't fazed by the change of events. The Rift often did strange things. This certainly wasn't the strangest or least pleasant of its actions. In fact, it was kind of pretty.

talk talk talk talk
My Soul
is in
The Sky
image credit to Dozymare @ Deviantart.com


The symbolthat is tattooed onto K'yarie's skin by the ball of hope.
Roscorro the Dragon Heart
Currently championing: Caevoc
#33
ROSCORRO
He was an awkward giant, and many were probably grateful that Hope had appeared when she did. If only to save them from the terrible sight that was his dancing. He stilled, entranced by the goddess and her words. His heart warmed at the thought that they had done this. They had awoken her and helped the world. He could not help the small smile that curled his velvet lips. He watched the two gods interact, noting the stiffness of Kis. It would seem this would take some getting used to.

He was no aware of his pain, and was too far away to see much of anything. But he did see his ball of hope suddenly bump into his rump. Leaving its mark as it merged with him. He inspected. It was a curious shape. A tower with a dragon perched atop it. Anlters sprouted beneath while ivy framed the image. He had no idea why the piece of hope had selected this to be its form. Was there some purpose behind its selection, or was this a random rendition? What ever the case, he quite liked it.
"Talk."

I may not be the most important person in your life.
I just hope when you hear my name,
You smile and say "That's my friend!"
image || coding


Rosco receives the emblem of his kingdom as his marking (Though he has no idea this will be their emblem yet). https://sta.sh/0p4etz4kym4
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though. 
Rixen the Vine King
Currently championing: Vjanta
#34
R I X E N
I watched as Hope and the god who called himself Kisamoa interacted with one another. The latter did not look too thrilled that Hope was here. His ears were pinned to the sides of his head and his lips were curled back in a scowl. Perhaps he was… jealous? The doe’s voice was hushed, as if she did not want anyone in the crowd to hear what they were saying. Still trying to make sense of what was going on, my ears flicked to and fro, a clear sign of my interest in their conversation. Unsurprisingly, Hope held her composure even through what looked to be Kisamoa’s seething remarks, although it was too loud in the clearing and I was not standing close enough to make out exactly what was being said. 

Finally, Hope turned to address the group of horses once more. She praised us for using our orbs to heal the Rift, but more importantly, she gave a motion in Kisamoa’s direction. Her biggest compliments went to the stallion, who she credited with beginning the struggle against the sickness that had plagued this land for so long. It was a battle that I assumed had begun some time before my arrival here. I remembered Kiada telling me something about it in the Green Labyrinth, how Kisamoa had been born up out of the Helovian gods, crafted as a guardian of the Rift (though arguably he hardly looked it). So busy was my mind with these thoughts that what would be Hope’s last words slipped the range of my hearing. 

Then, as if on command, the orb that had been travelling beside my shoulder ever since Otem had shared hers with me burst into what seemed to be a million pieces. A large fragment collided with my shoulder. I felt the impact below the dark hair draped along the base of my neck, just where it connected with my withers. Looking around me, I could see that everyone else’s orbs had done the same. Kiada seemed just as surprised by it as I was. Craning my head around, the glowing mark was just visible at the edge of my vision, a permanent reminder of all that we had accomplished together. I did not mind it in the least. "It’s… a mark?" I breathed, half to myself, but certainly Kiada could hear. My emerald eyes shifted back to Kiada, "You have one too, behind your ear." I observed upon spotting the glowing shape behind her ear, unsure whether or not she could see it. These markings must have been what Hope was referring to, but upon looking up again the great deer was nowhere in sight, disappearing into the depths of the Rift as mysteriously as she had emerged. I wished she could have stayed longer, but something deep within me knew that she would likely emerge again, even if some amount of time had to pass by first. On the bright side, it was something to look forward to. 

"Talk."


they heard me singing and they told me to stop
quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock



image credits || coding credits


Mentions @Kiada!
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Valkyrie the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Caevoc
#35
VALKYRIE
She stood in the storm


Quietly she observed the proceedings, relishing in the warmth and weightlessness that had been brought alongside this new, glamorous, luminous deity - as, it seemed, did they all. The phenomenon was intriguing actually. It seemed rather convenient that their opinion of her was unanimously one of favour.

Coolness touched her side as the sickly child slipped away, but Valkyrie barely noticed (nor really did she care), as her ivory ears swivelled forward and her eyes found the uglier one, Kisamoa. The two massive creatures stood momentarily together: she, lean and light, he, murky both in body and behaviour. The good one and the bad one, the Shieldmaiden mused to herself, how cliche - though in truth she could bring herself to find preference with neither.

Words between the two were shared and though she strained each in figure and mind to listen, she was unable to hear the exchange. Then the finer creature turned to regard the sheep which lingered in her shadow, drawn like impressionable moths, to the flame. Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed as mention of Kisamoa’s feats to save the world was made public, and a smirk crossed her lips, for, in her opinion, there was nothing here really worth preservation.

Certainly not the opposition, whose number well outweighed the women.

As Hope’s voice trailed into nothing, the glowing orb which she’d never sought the company of (it clung to her like velcro, nonetheless), seemed to swell and quiver alongside her and the pale adolescent set a sharp glare upon it. A moment later it hurtled forward, aiming to collide a smart looking sun upon her shoulder, but the startled horse - limber and ever wary - baulked away and received instead an unsightly splat upon the left curve of her fair belly.

and when the wind did not blow her way,
she adjusted her sails.



img

Valkyrie moved, so ended up with a splat near her belly.
Seiji the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Caevoc
#36

A moment ago, Seiji was dancing. A moment ago, he had forgotten his reason for coming here. He was flitting through the crowd, a shadow between shadows, gazing over his shoulder and grinning like a child. Catch me! But then something else happened.

A sensation: like a storm blowing in.

He has stilled. His ears come forward, slowly. There is another creature here, which Seiji didn't notice at first but which is not a horse. Is not Hope or anything else.... Wariness trembles in his limbs as he stares. That — that is a monster. Something ugly; perhaps something evil. He watches keenly as it joins the gathering and keenly still as it begins to speak. He doesn't really understand what's going on. A history beneath the words, but he doesn't know it. He came in at the tail end of all of this, and it shouldn't concern him, should it? Yet....

He contemplates flight as tension simmers between the — gods? — beings. And then it's over — Hope is gone. Seiji flinches. His ears swivel. There's movement in periphery, and his head whips around to focus on the ball of light vibrating just beside him. Oh, he thinks, a moment before it flies directly at him.

Startled, Seiji leaps aside — not fast enough. It strikes his withers: light and then nothing. He shivers at the impact, but it doesn't hurt. He expects hurts. He stands tense and wide-eyed several seconds after. Breath crashes in his lungs. Then he turns, ears twitching, to examine the place where the orb struck. It's on his right side, just below the handful of scattered marks up near his withers. Ugly lines, like slash marks. Like something swiped him with a glowing claw. They cross right over where the wing marking would continue if it were ever finished.

He stares at it. Something.... something trickles into his mind. Understanding? And then a huff of anger. Quickly, he blinks around at the others. The same thing seems to have happened to them, though the markings he can see are all different shapes. Uneasy, Seiji searches for a familiar face in the crowd, but everyone he recognizes seems to be engaged with someone else. He shifts his weight, cranes his neck in hopes of spying the winged boy again. His dance partner.

img by Tildae @ flickr


Seiji's hope marking sort of crosses out where the wing marking on his right side would continue.
Waker
Currently championing:
#37
She turns to face you, and in this place—this mood; the light and the music and the hypnotic sway of bodies, the sweat still lacing your dark skin—the dark, brooding burden you've carried with you has lifted. In that moment, your world is simple and narrow: the content, rapid beating of your heart, the atmosphere pressing against you, two friends before you.

She says your name and your smile morphs, becomes a little different. It's almost like your heart skips a beat and your veins flutter, and you have to fight your mouth to keep it from baring your fangs; if your facial muscles had things their way, you'd probably smile wide enough to split your face in two. It'd look horrible.

But things don't last, as they tend to not do. She looks away as darkness seeps through the atmosphere, her eyes drawn to Kisamoa. You feel your smile fade, not because she looks away, but because you feel for the misfit creature, that patchwork deity—and feeling his unhappiness saddens you. What has happened, to sour his mood? Before you took to the sky, his tail had been dancing, at least, but now..?

Then your Hopelight starts to spin faster around you, as they do around everyone; you watch it, wary, and you flinch as it suddenly rockets towards your left hip. It collides with you in an impact of light and warmth, a sizzling burn like a branding iron, but without the painful aftermath—and in its wake, a pointy, stylized star glows on your haunch.

"Well," you breathe, still shaken by the light's assault, peering at Taivas and Dragon Man. They both sport small glowing markings.

When you raise your eyes again, you notice that Hope is gone, but Kisamoa encourages you all to continue the party in her absence. You look again to your friends, shrugging slightly.
Rift Presence
Currently championing:
#38
the Rift
The matron couldn't help but feel Kisamoa staring daggers at her, yet what could she do about it? She had known, in the way of old, wise creatures, that something slumbered within the Protector's pillar, but she hadn't known what, exactly.

And besides, her world needed help. The ever-shifting deity of Kaos was about as structured and consistent as his own physical shape, and despite his obvious goal of restoring and healing the Rift, he went about it in mysterious, often counter-productive, ways. He was young, and he was volatile, and he was learning, but it was too slow.

Sometimes, you have to gamble, and as she laid her eyes upon the magnificent deer stepping out of the blue light, she felt it had been worth risking Kisamoa's wrath.

Aside from his piercing gaze and the highly uncomfortable waves of aggression he was sending out, she figured he was behaving himself remarkably well.

Hope did as deities do, disappearing into that in-between she knew sometimes housed Kisamoa—but he remained, still vexed, but seemingly too stubborn to follow Hope. The matron smiled, a kindly smile, touching her trunk to one of the Pavo cats sitting by her old feet.

"Things will be alright," she murmured to the creature. "They have to be."

And so it was that Hope's party went on, as Kisamoa had willed it, with music and dancing and laughing and talking, until all the creatures and horses of the Rift had exhausted themselves, and the sun was starting to lighten up the horizon.

Thank you all for participating! This thread will be archived on June 30th. :) You can post your own exits if you like, or just use this as a "universal fade" for your character/s.

Keep in mind you need at least three posts in the thread in order to be able to claim Rift Force for it!
» Presence of the Rift «