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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook

Sleep well, and dream of fat prey that runs slow…
RP Wanted The Portal 
Valkyrie the Hopebringer
Pretty Valkyrie?

Stunned seconds ticked by before the Daughter of the Shieldmaidens who despised those like him so, realised that the corners of her mouth - the gentle frown by then - had softened into the faintest curve of a smile. In an instant she forced it from existence and stiffened her unsuspecting mind against his spellbinding flattery; legs, thighs and shoulders hardened too against the disarming blue gaze which should gleefully see her fall drunkenly to his mercy, all weak at the knees. He was still a man, and they both had one purpose in this lifetime - he was pure, unadulterated evil, and she would see him fall. That was her job, her duty; it was in her blood and bones.

“Wings,” he went on, directing the pastel point of his interfering nose towards the pristine wings perched to either side of her face. She had also, fitted well against the skin between them, a titanium helm - plated in an intricate pattern with gold and silver. Metal wings fanned backwards from it, pinned securely, as though, with aquamarine centred gemstones (that only complimented the blue in of her irises more beautifully), and the feathers shielding the lower half of hers, looked almost real with copper mottling their perfect lengths. Valkyrie tilted her face away so that he could not touch her this time, and the long, clean-white sweep of forelock moved abruptly athwart the piece. If he followed, the spear she held tightly would correct his mistake.

She would never submit to his game.

Though in truth he had seen and taken interest in the minor wound she had previously suffered, it seemed to her that Vynter had come to his senses and withdrawn from her space. The pallid young horse took the opportunity to look back to Roscorro. He was standing still where he had always, watching with a most humble expression as the painted man spoke and proceeded to slide away into the jungle.

“I’m not hurt…” she almost spat (almost lost grip on the weapon’s short handle), the indignance of youth - and her upbringing - rising back into her tone. Craning her muscular neck hard around, she peered narrowly at the point on her thigh where the sharp vine had indeed struck. To her surprise, a small smear of blood had stained the lovely light-cremello skin there and she promptly adjusted, to try to reach over and nuzzle the spike from their view. Injury meant imperfection, imperfection meant weakness - a thing that was just not allowed. Though she tried and she strained to reach the wretched wound, a month and a half’s lack of workout had rendered her inflexible.

“Ugh…” she grumbled under her breath.

During this, the appearance of a shining metal spider from Vynter's mane evaded her notice. At some point, as Valkyrie settled back into a more natural position, she glanced by the ground and discovered it nearing. Spiders played an important role in nature, like wolves, snakes; even flies. It never crossed her mind to stand on it, destroy it, or otherwise, but she wasn’t altogether at ease in its presence. The large, clicking arachnid looked like it was metal. One ear swerved backwards, betraying her indecision in the moment and behind her, the thick mass of tethered tail snapped by either flank. Before her eyes, it continued along with what only seemed to be astonishing motivation, awareness, ascending the wood of a stunted, vine-strangled tree, and along the lowest limb toward her thigh.

The man returned soon after, and with fidgeting ears and a perplexed expression, the Daughter observed the team effort to follow.

Though the skin flinched when the lodged vine was plucked, she made no other visible impression to suggest it was painful; she stood stock-still, waiting - watching intently - unsure just what exactly the man and his tin spider were doing. At least until he began to spit his half-chewed cud on her coat… It was revolting to say the least, and her nose pinched in blatant protest, but right as her lips spread to deter him from lathering putrid saliva - and his lunch? - a second, third, fourth time, he ceased, and she quietly followed his bright gaze to the spider.

The peculiar critter had been spinning web into a dressing of sorts, and Vynter retrieved it with unexpected grace (actually, the whole procedure was undertaken with poise and devotion she could not ever have predicted), and pressed it tenderly across the sticky mess which had replaced the stain of her blood. As he moved back examining, clearly moved by his work, Valkyrie stared hard at her thigh with not quite the same level of admiration. It was disgusting… She was torn between smiling for the sake of his pitiful, infantile feelings - faking some gratitude in the process - and dropping to roll that filth away for good.

The shadows had inched nearer, brushing without any warning, up against her other side and inexplicable irritation boiled in her veins as the magic therein was stripped properly clear; a flash, however, could’ve even been a blink, seemed to smooth the sensation  (and the living fog), back away.

Something pulled her focus free - eyes, his, he was standing there watching her. Struck by her own expectation that he wanted validation (and remembering in good time that Roscorro still stood watching), she pushed forth a half-laugh, masked beneath a grin. “That’s… lovely…” she tried to assure him, thank him, as earnestly as she could manage given the squirm of her stomach at the reoccurring memory. “Thank you!” she added quickly, bowing away beneath a tide of pale flaxen. As she did so, the Daughter noticed for the first time formally, the alien malformation nestled so awkwardly between his bulging, brawny legs; she’d seen the same carved into walls, listened to its mention, riddled through fable - it was that, which she knew to look for, to be certain he was man. Something akin to satisfaction flinched through her mind.

It was all so simple, it just seemed wrong.

She came to a halt again somewhere near the other - the 'surely a woman' - beast, and pushed the wad of spit pulling individual strands of hair as it dried (the man, and the metal spider), from her thoughts. “Roscorro,” her feminine, naturally sultry, but young voice began. She needed to lift her chin to find his lofty eyes beneath the dramatic curtain of his heavy hair. “Please, is there a place around here, that's cooler?”

Vynter the Hopebringer
Although Vynter wasn't really one to have a sense of pride, nor did he often seek praise from others; for some reason in his mind he was almost waiting for something positive to form on her dainty complexion. Yet even as she studied his handy work, a concoction that would likely completely heal her wound with no scar mind you, her feigned gratitude did not sit well with him. He may come off as dense and awkward, and it was true that he wasn't the greatest at conversing with others; but he was certainly no fool. So he could easily see through her facade that she was indeed not at all pleased with his assistance.

What made him feel even more unsettled, was that as soon as she seemed to give him a disinterested once over and dismissing his effort to help her; she immediately focused all of her attention onto Rosco. Now normally this wouldn't bother Vynter, he had other things to do aside from talking and socializing. Yet when he watched her bat her eyes and sway her hips just so, the way her lips curved into a smile she had yet to direct towards him; the cogs began to turn into his brain in an attempt to understand why she wouldn't act like that towards him. What was so different between himself and his dragon friend? They were both male, both certainly taller than she ever would be. It wasn't as if one had been nicer to her than the other. So what could possibly make them different enough for Valkyrie to disregard one, and to swoon over the other?

His eyes were focused on his furry friend's build, studying him with a neutral expression. His eyes followed every muscular curve, the way his neck arched and how he held himself. At last his eyes landed on the wings at his side, smoldering with a smoky aura and full of strength. Icy blues switched their attention to the delicate feather's of the maiden's wings, gracefully fluttering next to her helm. His gaze continued to shift between the two for a few moments, gears ever turning, until at last he moved his skull in the direction of his own mangled appendages.

It was at that moment that for the first time Vynter did not like his wings.

Now knowing what he needed to do he clicked to Leroy, not making anymore contact with the fellow Pegasi, and began to walk away towards the brush surrounding them. It hadn't taken long for his mind to comprehend and understand, for it to click together what didn't belong in the simplistic equation. He was the odd horse out as always, but for the first time in his life he no longer wanted to be. There was no time to waste and so off he went. There was purpose in his ungraceful footing, his body still gliding at a quick pace as he only spared Rosco a simple 'Goodbye' before disappearing into the depths of the Rift.

my will is a sword that cuts down anything in my way

Vynter out. Thanks for the awesome thread you guys!!

Roscorro the Dragon Heart
Valkyrie was less than pleased by the gunk Vynter had placed on her. Though she tried to hide it, the boy was no fool. He was a perceptive lad, though it seemed Valkyrie was unable to see this. Though she obviously held no favor for the yearling. The quiet scene unfolded before him like some adolescent drama. He was naturally clueless of the part he played or the effect he had upon Vynter as Valkyrie shunned him in favor of the older stallion. Honestly, he had been quite impressed by the care and knowledge Vynter had and would have complimented the yearling had he not uttered such a quick goodbye.

"Vynter." The call went unanswered as the other disappeared into the fog. What had he done? His little friend seemed upset. His gaze turned to Valkyrie as she spoke his name. Her complete disregard for Vynter and her attitude towards him when he helped her rubbed the tribrid the wrong way. When she asked for a cooler location he instinctively spread forth a giant wing over her head to offer some shade. "That boy has never gone so far out of his way to help someone." The giant began, his voice ever gentle. As he went on however, the disappointed could be detected, like a father who learned of his child's misbehavior.

Lowering his head he looked the mare in the eye, his large eyes saddened. "He is normally rather awkward around people, preferring to act rather than speak, and unable to understand some social intricacies such as personal space. But he is good at heart, very bright, and took great care in locating those herbs and helping you. So why treat him so coldly?" His massive head cocked as he posed the question. His tone still retained the softness, never raising in anger though he felt quite frustrated inside.

"I understand he made you uncomfortable, when he approached you. He did the same thing with me, though he actually plowed into me at the time." A smile ghosted his lips before vanishing. "But he never sought to harm or attack. Why do you seek to remain hostile towards one who sought to give you aid? You hurt him, just now. Not because he expected praise, a simple nod of genuine thanks would be enough for Vynter. But because you treated him so lowly, like he was some nagging child you wished to placate so you could be rid of them. Yet you come to me asking for help, expecting me to offer you a kindness already been shown to you by Vynter. After you treat him, my friend, one I care for as my own, so rudely. My dear, you muddy your beauty, you are more than that." He really wanted to understand how someone could contemptuously brush off such a kind act so easily?

"We do have a summit in the west that is less hot, though the scorch touches all lands. It's height and lake there can offer some relief." He replied after a long pause, his gaze unflinching. "I wish you safe travels, and much happiness. And should you ever need my aid I will still offer it, though I ask you remember what I have said. This world is treacherous enough without all of us trying to harm or undermine one another. If we forget that, we will all die out here." With a heavy sigh and a small smile, he patted the mare's shoulder with his large wing. The motion was tender and his eyes showed true concern for this young stranger.He would wait for her explanation, outburst, or goodbye with a quiet calmness.

talk talk talk talk
I believe this world ain't half as bad as it looks.
I believe most poeple are good.

ooc: Forgot to say that Rosco's piece of hope split and shared itseld Valkyrie in my 'ooc' section on my last post. Oops!

Piece of Hope. A fist-sized ball of pleasant light, giving hope and light to whomever has it. Infinitely split-able. Mitigates the harmful and violent effects of the Rift.
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though. 
Valkyrie the Hopebringer
It wasn’t exactly the respite she was expecting or wanting (it never crossed her mind that he would anything but forthcoming), and she ducked instinctively from the swing of his utterly enormous arm above her. Only after a second, when it occurred to her that his wing was being given as the shelter required, did Valkyrie resume a standard posture underneath; she might have ventured to clarify her need, but Roscorro began to speak first and she was prompted to tighten her jaw around the idea for now, instead.

“Vynter?” she slotted a little too casually, dismissively even, in between the giant creature’s words. The spear and orb, together, dropped with a light thud.

He rumbled on unaffected, descending from on high to hold her ice-blue gaze, describing the delinquent man’s character flaws – and then the good about him - in a tone seemingly laced with disappointment. Uncomfortable with the unexpected (and, according to her, unwarranted) shift in his demeanour, the Daughter began to fidget in place, shifting weight between flexing forearms and flicking the tied tendrils of her tail against each hock below. Her eyes withdrew from the perceived sternness in his own, sullenly almost, and scurried hitherto where Vynter had a moment before, vanished into the wilds.

There was no comprehension – no reason to believe – that Roscorro’s principles might have differed from her own. Listening to his experience only further fed her dogged belief; so why still, in the name of the Shield, did the humble natured giant before her, continue to give him credit? She was puzzled, bothered by it all.

Though she stewed at length, she could not find that level of remorse that he seemed so intent to uncover. Valkyrie genuinely did not care for the man, his actions or his feelings.

He was unworthy. Simple.

Maintaining the same blank, more or less unresponsive mask, she turned her short, sweat-soaked neck and moved back her attention. The hairy beast was still talking, still trying to leave out some speck of compassion.

The heat was killing her enthusiasm.

At last, the lecture deviated down a path she could actually relate to. Upon mention of her muddied beauty, the pale horse passed a glance down each of her own strapping forelegs - leaning back shamelessly to gauge the best assessment. Indeed there was evidence of her fall out of Loorien; brown grease marred to part way up each limb and she resisted the urge to clean it off herself – who knew what parasitic filth contaminated the fluorescent belly she had entered. As Roscorro’s light, feathery pat brushed her shoulder, she smiled quietly. “Oh you needn’t worry,” she proclaimed in a show of inappropriate self-assurance, “I’ll be alright.” Her perspective was selfish, or so it was becoming apparent (unbeknownst to her), but the past had bred no better quality through her unintentionally shallow character. “I’ll remember your words too, I promise.”

She had become rather oblivious to his gaze, much like the ever-present eyes still around them. Valkyrie reached around as far as her lips would carry and brushed Vynter’s spit-wad from her skin.

“Ow…” she murmured as it pulled free the hairs its drying mass had ensnared. The mesh of web, herbs and saliva fell to the ground. Pleased – it was written right through her expression – the Daughter smiled warmly towards her company. “Thanks for your help Roscorro!”

Now she only needed a good bath in the lake he had mentioned.

Roscorro the Dragon Heart
He was not sure how much of his speech had gotten through to the mare. she gave little sign that she would indeed remember what he said and reflect upon it. Honestly she showed no sign of remorse for hurting Vynter at all. It made the giant truly sad. To see one so young have so little regard for another, yet expect so much help from people around her. One day she would receive a rude awakening, if she did not learn to show some compassion and humility. But he was not going to waste more words trying to explain this to her. Nor was he the type to try and force something down another's throat. She would have to learn herself. He felt that this was the only way anything would get through to Valkyrie. It would be a hard road for her, hopefully she would not become hardened by it.

"I wish you well then." He said to her last words. Despite the sadness and frustration that he felt he managed a warm smile in return. "I hope our paths cross again." With that he turned and left, following the trail left by Vynter. He wished to find the lad and speak with him.

talk talk talk talk
I believe this world ain't half as bad as it looks.
I believe most poeple are good.

ooc: Thank you so much for threading with me! Sorry this took so long!
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though.