No surprise that Kis would us his powers to transport himself to the meeting place. If he had that kind of power he would have taken that route as well. But since he didn't he was forced to walk all the way back to where they had gathered previously. Still, he was the first to arrive out of the horses. He waited in silence until other gathered and the matron addressed them. A party? Really? He had no reason to go save for the curiosity that ate at his gut. What had they even accomplished? He saw no real change within his world. Did they even make a difference?
He stood there, a slight frown touching his face when the matron presented glitter. She wanted him to wear that? No thanks. He would follow, but not partake in the silly-ness. He moved, passing by the matron as he sought a more secluded place to observe. he'd wait until everyone sparklified themselves before following the matron to wherever she planned to go. Seeming to sense his thoughts the matron reached out on touched his back just between his shoulder blades and quickly ran her trunk down his spine. Glitter poured over him, covering his body in its unpleasantness. He snorted and looked to the large matron, who merely smiled knowingly at him in return. Seriously? Unable to escape the stupidity of the event now, the stallion grumpily followed the matron when she chose to lead the way.
"Talk."
You have three choices in Life:
Get up, give in,
Or give it all you've got!
ooc: Ru is not happy to be taking part in the glitter party, but he still follows the matron out of curiosity.
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
She returned triumphant from the forest of Solanis. Her head held high as she remained beside Waker. She strode into the meeting place and awaited the matron's next instruction, still invigorated by the rest and success that they had. But there were not other tasks as the matron congratulated them and spoke of a party.
She loved celebrations! So when the glitter was passed around she gracefully accepted the gift. Though the majority of it was lost within her shining pelt, the glitter placed upon her face shone brightly. She smiled the Waker. "How do I look?" She asked, curious to know how the new addition of the glitter and the Solanis glow added to her beauty. Did the yellow light clash with her normal softer purples, green, and blues? Or did it compliment her being like the sun compliments the moon?
When the matron pulled away from the group she would follow, eager to take part in the part that was bound to be forever burned in her memory.
talk talk talk talk
He was back, and glowing softly. The golden light complimenting his rich brown coat. He beamed as brighter than the light he now cast as he walked onto the scene. They were doing so much to help their world, and they had even saved the forest he considered his home. He was ready for their next task. Where were they going to go next? What place needed their help? He looked to the Matron for answers.
They were not going anywhere else. Instead they were supposed to party and celebrate their accomplishments. Though the stallion would have liked to continue to help their land, the thought of a party appealed to him. He had never been to a party before. Never danced with other or took part in any form of celebration. So, with a childlike glee and curiosity he donned the glitter upon his vast being. Only able to get most of it upon his wings so they sparkled like true flame. When everyone was ready he would join them on their hike to the pinnacle, eager to experience his first party.
"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!"
03-24-2018, 11:20 PM (This post was last modified: 03-24-2018, 11:24 PM by Valkyrie.)
VALKYRIE
She stood in the storm
Valkyrie really had more important things to do. Playing ‘heroes’ with society’s rejects and chasing marionette-trees just wasn’t going to win her the trophy the High-Maiden required, nor a ticket out of this hell. Ambling behind the crowd as they streamed along the path back to the beach, she found that a deep, niggling irritation was rapidly souring her mood: this troupe of blaring aesthetic blunders, was almost more than her compulsion for tidiness and order could cope with. The ugly, hulking monster with the weird blood and body-parts dangling about it like a necklace made no sense whatsoever; she wondered as it vanished through the timber ahead (or so it seemed, for the thing’s lumbering stride was enormous), whether it practiced being so repulsively hideous…
At least there was one thing good about its body - it wasn’t nearly as ugly as its face.
When she could no longer see it, the Shieldmaiden’s critical gaze fell upon ’prickle-face’: living proof that life could exist without a brain. Pretty pink lips parted around a cavernous yawn and her eyes rolled well back between tightly fastened lashes.
Her head hurt…
The rainforest was hot and humid, horribly so, and their progressive pace through it only made the experience more uncomfortable. Sweat broke behind Valkyrie’s ears, glossing the length of her mane covered neck and darkening the quiet rose hue nestled beneath the sauntering swing of her flanks. Behind the delicate curve of her golden helm, pallid feathers were fanned and the fine arms which wielded them drooped clear the heat radiating from her skin. Sinewy sloping shoulders were slumped in a rather indiscreet show of botheration and the next rising out from between them sagged like a dehydrated sapling… water, how she would have loved to guzzle the contents of a lake at that moment. There was no sign or scent of relief, however, and she was forced to endure.
...to tread the heels of nerdy misfits, so she could at least find her way back to the ocean.
Then she would soak (she had earned it). Cleanse herself, at last, of this entire ordeal.
Hours later, they filed one by one out onto the beach before the queer folk of the Rift. The trunked woman still stood amongst their mingling mass, waiting; smile broadening, for apparently their return was intended and well appreciated. Valkyrie lagged behind the rest, an air of confused curiosity corroding her confidence, but the wilt in her stride as she paused near the back evaporated when she caught sight of little Vynter. There was a glint upon his rump that hadn’t been there before, and her narrowing eyes honed in on it, guiding forth her splendid frame until she was near enough to inspect it (but not feel his measly wrath should her presence there surprise him) - men were incapable of multitasking, after all.
He had wasted no time with his return, following swiftly behind Ruwin quietly and faithfully; knowing he would be the one to keep close to in case something were to happen. His deafness was causing problems, and he found it hard to keep pace with what was happening without it. Yet he remained strong, ignoring the hindrances to the best of his ability and instead focusing on enjoying this new adventure.
Walking up to where the beautiful Matron stood and he studied her quietly, curiously, awaiting the next command. They were still on a mission to heal the Rift after all, and she was the one calling the shots. He had pretty much forgotten about the marking on his hind rump; the dark flame a stark contrast against the silver and white of his patched coat. Even as the teal bled out from the edges in an ethereal glow; there didn't seem to be much else about it that caused it to stand out. Yet Vynter could easily sense someone staring at him from behind.
Turning his skull he found the pale Shieldmaiden staring intensely at the exact spot he had been marked. Letting his mind register her presence; the way her mane flopped gracefully over her forehead; her pale eyes so stunning against her white and cream complexion. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from staring at her pretty face. Instead he swallowed, watching her silently study him, before ever so delicately wiggling his crippled wing to cover the marking to the best of his ability. As interesting as it was, he didn't feel the need to be stared at because of it.
Vynter
My will is a sword that cuts down anything in my way
He follows the others: a shadow stepping lightly in their wake, no longer dark but edged in gold. Light filters softly from his coat, casting an aura onto the damp earth. Triumphant, but the triumph bleeds from him as he leaves the golden flowers behind. It was not truly his task. It is not truly his triumph. He has still so many miles to go.
Subdued, he arrives in the meeting place. Alert, again: dark eyes scanning the gathered faces. Some he recognizes! He stands well away from the pale girl with the spear. Thinks he glimpses Kiada elsewhere in the crowd. But he lingers in the shadows of K'yarie and Waker, the nearest things to allies he still has. And he thinks, he's happy for them, even if in his heart he still aches for himself.
Seiji accepts his adornments with grace: glitter scattered over his withers and back, over the narrow lines of his face. A quick smile brightens his gaze despite the situation, but then he turns to call a certain name, to make a certain joke, and the words are dead in his mouth. The one he wants to call for isn't present. He shouldn't allow himself to be too caught up - he has a task.
Drawn out of the safety of the rainforest by a great commotion on the beach, Eira found herself gazing down from the rocky cliff-top upon a gathering too the queerest sort: a great many creatures she knew now to be natives of this Rift, were standing on the windy shoreline, mingling, with a larger tusked beast towards their centre. One furry blue ear slipped forward, lured from her sister within which the fairy Fay, was hidden. As she examined them from afar, the sickly filly noticed many more weaving in from the east and from the west, and there came behind her a scrabble of hoof-steps that struck a chord of fear through her heart.
Though she began to turn, there was no time, for a good few horses broke past the line of undergrowth and began, unknowingly perhaps, hustle her along with them down the slippery track toward the beach. Once started the descent became precarious, for the strangers that moved around her were sure in their stride and moved with unnerving speed; certainly more than the tiny insignificant waif which was now trapped in their procession. Thankfully however, their confidence arrived her safely to the bottom and swiftly she moved to their side and finally out across the soft, dry sand on her own.
All around, there were jovial voices, ringing out above the steady roar of the crashing surf and Eira wandered between them with her gaunt face low and her ears set back - she did not particularly want their notice. As she neared the centre, a gentle voice touched her ears and she found, to her surprise, that the giant with the tusks was watching her, strange trunk extended to beckon her forward. “Come small one,” she insisted, even as the little hybrid dithered with nervous apprehension bleeding through her veins. “Wear this glitter.”
The creature seemed kindly, calm, and she stepped nearer so that the Loricatrunc could paint the shining substance across her neck, back and tattered wings; then she turned, and, dipping the tip of her nose in the glitter, assisted the gentle matron in painting her other side. When she was lathered just like the horses lingering around her, Eira smiled softly at the tall creature and turned upon her chipped black hooves to find an easy route back through the steamy sea of bodies. Many were heading up the cliffs, so she too, made slowly in that direction, pausing once or twice to behold and absorb the wonder around her.
"I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter."
It was maybe a day's journey to reach the Rainforest Cliffs again. As expected, the Matron was awaiting our arrival. Horses from the other groups were already beginning to gather to hear what she had to say. I watched as she smiled at the god of sorts, Kisamoa, joyfully spreading a line of glitter upon his brow. But Kisamoa was not the only one to be praised. The Matron wanted to reward all of us for healing the Rift. She spoke of a party, followed by requesting that we spread glitter all over ourselves and all around us before we travelled to the Pinnacle for more festivities. Indeed, it was a very strange ritual, unlike any that I'd ever witnessed before. It was not something that I ever would have expected to partake in. However, I did not want to be the one who refused merely because I thought her request odd, and so I did what I was told.
"Talk."
they heard me singing and they told me to stop
quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock
golden child, lion girl, tell me what it's like to conquer —
She followed Rixen quietly, uncertain if he knew that she was still sticking to his side. There was something about him that captivated her, even more so as her eyes raised to watch him still before looking further to the Matron and the glitter that adorned the others that had come before. Excitement roared in her veins, and Khairi – sitting atop her spine – grimaced with the idea of being covered in glitter. And parties, she absolutely loved parties. A wide grin crossed her features, her eyes dancing to see who all bore the shimmering powders. She spotted Kisamoa, much to her surprise, sporting a small line of glitter, before she turned to the pot.
Much to Khairi’s displeasure, she dove full in with her head. The black part of her head and neck came out with the appearance of a disco ball, glittering and flinging light in every direction she looked. Oh, this would be fun. She made her way back beside Rixen to wait until they moved to the Pinnacle, prepared and pleased deep within her bones, completely excited to see what awaited them.
The smell of the Living Tree was still in his nose, heavy on his mind; he thought he caught a whiff of it, but figured it was only memory.
Not even the salt could scrub it from his nose, or take the hunger out of his mouth.
He wanted to plant a garden of them, to save them, to save the Rift, an anchor of power so pure the corruption would fold back on itself—a dream fueled by memories of a golden age, clear waters, life.
He wanted to plant a garden of them, so that he could eat them.
He was a monster, playing at being a hero, a savior. He was cruel and selfish. He was—
He had the matron's trunk in his face, the motion catching his attention, and before he had a chance to protest—something told him monsters don't like glitter—he had a line of sticky glitter drawn across his broad forehead. She murmured encouragement to him, and his long ears fell back against his neck. Perhaps they would. Perhaps they shouldn't. The embarrassed beast sighed, and settled in to wait, and when they were all ready, he followed them to the Pinnacle.
Rainforest Cliffs
