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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

Incantations
Trial Solanis 
Rixen the Vine King
#1
RIXEN
and if you are to love, love as the moon loves;

Above me, the wind combed through the leafy branches, which jutted out over the path like many pairs of outstretched arms. This forest was peaceful, quiet except for the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The trees were not packed together so densely, leaving ample space for me to peer between the foliage and examine my surroundings as I walked along a sort of naturally-occurring path. It was the same as any other day in the Rift, which both started and ended with me wandering about in some new and unfamiliar place. The Rift was just so vast. I'd go for miles without stopping sometimes, and still manage to end up someplace new each time. So in that respect, it was an ordinary day.

There was something different about it, too. As I went further and further into Solanis, I felt something change. I could not quite place what it was. The feeling was the kind that I could almost instinctively sense. A change barely noticeable, but still there, like the sun rising in the morning. The sun rose out of the darkness in the early hours of the day, an event that occurred each and every day. But despite it being common knowledge that the sun had to rise to signal the birth of each new day, somehow after all these years sunrises managed to happen without anyone ever really noticing. I knew they were there, like this change I felt in the world around me. Was it around me, though,  or- could the change have been within me? It was as subtle as the tone of the voice or the glance of the eye, while at the same time being as noticeable as white stars on a cloudless night. 

While I normally would have dismissed the strange feelings accompanying this change as the product of my overthinking, this time I knew that it wasn't just me. I wasn't imagining things. The ethereal shift was real, tangible as this world was. It must have been magic, conjured up by the Rift. Magic interested me greatly, for there seemed to be so many horses here who possessed it. Here, magic was in a way normal. For these horses had been born with abilities like fire-breathing or shapeshifting, and thus for them magic did not hold the element of mystery or eminence that it did for me. Having no experience with magic, I couldn't possibly begin to place what was the driving force behind the feeling that made my heart beat a little faster, or why the Rift had chosen me in particular to bare the burden of its uncanny tricks.  

A voice, perhaps the soft susurration of the verdant leaves overhead, seemed to speak to me. I was not even aware that there was something I needed to do, much less why I needed to do it. But the voice in my ear was clear, though not the voice of an individual; it was the voice of the Rift. In my time here, I'd learned that the Rift had its ways of reaching whoever it wanted, whenever it wanted to. 

And then, like a wave, my senses went awry. The Rift stole into my mind like a deranged thief, taking all I could remember, what was important to me, and muddling up the rest in confusion. One after the other, my thoughts cascaded out of control until the Rift's grip was so deep that I no longer recognized even the forest around me, the once tree-lined path twisted and turned out of sight, the trunks sprung up so densely that they formed an inescapable maze, a prison without walls. There I was, suddenly very much trapped and confused and blind. But it wasn't the kind of blindness that kept me from seeing. It was something else. 

"Talk."

it does not steal the night —
it only unveils the beauty of the dark



img


@Vynter <3
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Vynter the Hopebringer
#2
He had been travelling for about a day. Ever since his departure from the Portal and the strange encounter with Valkyrie and Roscorro; he had decided to set aside some time for himself to think. His only company was Leroy, the mechanical spider that often remained hidden in his mane and slumbered until something interesting was about. He felt as if he too was like this, keeping to himself and remaining in the shadows until there was something worth chasing after. Vynter was a curious yearling, and he likely be curious for the rest of his life.

He was one to question why everything worked the way it did and how. How the water moved itself along the stream and why it had chosen the direction it did. Or why birds seemed to sing more in the morning and what the purpose was of them doing it. These thoughts ran through his mind like a tape recording; varying slightly in subject but always the same; why why why why why. Yet the colt did not always get the answer to his question why when he asked; and so he made it a personal goal for himself to find out "why" for himself.

But he couldn't answer that question right now; because before he knew it there was another in his presence. Turning his skull in the fellow brute direction he blankly stared, studying him with calm blue eyes that were intense in their own way. Before he could stop himself he was moving, and his body was gliding on the ice that formed beneath his hooves as he closed the distance between the two males effortlessly. It seemed that believe it or not the ice often times made Vynter more graceful than he should be. With a simple flick of his tail he was shifting more to one side than the other, and he began to use his tail almost like an oar until he was finally right beside the ivory brute.

Coming to a complete stop the boy quietly studied the man before him with his icy blues. The sun was sweltering here, causing sweat to form upon the boy's grullo hide and cause his wing feathers to wilt in an unpleasant way. Although the colt would likely never use them, it didn't change the fact that the temperature was so unbearable that ones feathers began to wither away like dying flowers. Yet even was the sweltering heat pelted against his coat the boy was still optimistic; and as time went on he continued to study Rixen with those intense blue eyes.


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


@Rixen
Rixen the Vine King
#3
RIXEN
and if you are to love, love as the moon loves;

Then there was someone - someone else. It was as if he’d appeared out of thin air to stand before me, saying nothing but studying me intensely as I would now study him.

Without moving any more than my eyes, I scanned him carefully, gaze running from the top of his head to the tip of his youthfully short tail. He looked to be no older than a colt, one that I’d never encountered before. I hadn’t seen him around the Rift before. Or if I had, there was no recollection of it. What was most curious about him, though, was his wing. Yes, wing. Singular, without the ‘s.’ Where most pegasi had two wings, this grullo-patched stranger had only one. It sat somewhat awkwardly upon his back, the downy feathers slicked down with sweat in the warm sunlight. 

"W-who are you?" I was the first to speak, emerald orbs fixating on his icy blue ones. For some inexplicable reason, one which I could not control, my voice was sharp, mixed with undertones of wariness. It lacked it's usual liveliness completely, and the smile that often spread across my lips when meeting someone new was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the only expression that presented itself on my features was one of confusion, as if nothing in the world made sense anymore. Whatever was happening to me was inescapable. Trust me, I tried to fight it with every ounce of willpower in my bones. But the Rift continued to lurk like a predator in the back of my mind, whispering in an eerie voice that sent chills running down my spine. 

Listen… murmured the Rift, the word standing out in particular among the surging perplexity of my thoughts. 

"What is happening to me? Please, if you can, show me the way-" I accidentally stammered aloud, forgetting for a moment that I was not alone. Certainly I looked quite mad, just as mad as I felt.

My question went unanswered, in part. To be healed of your impairment, there are three tasks you must complete: pick a fight with another, collect a palubov tusk, and finally, escape Ennunyenda's tricky fog. 

How am I supposed to-

Look in front of you. The pale-colored colt was still standing innocently before me, with no notion of my internal battle. He said nothing, even as I spoke to myself, instead blinking up at me with doe-like eyes and childish curiousity. I could hardly contend with my own thoughts, much less the idea of harming a child. 

Tell me more, I cried internally. But the clear voice was gone, vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared amidst the confusion that had unexpectedly washed over me and that I was now forced to contend with. I was supposed to fight him? But he was only a colt… I couldn’t do that. I would never lift a hoof against him, and nothing would change my mind. 

According to the Rift, it was the only way. It was the only way that I might be able to rid myself of whatever ailment it was that had overcome me, fogging my brain and making my ears ring. My silver-tipped ears swiveled back and forth atop my cranium, an outward display of my anxiety. What could I do?

Then a thought dawned on me. What if- what if this was something like the “trial” Kiada had explained to me when we’d explored the Green Labyrinth. What if, instead of having to eat a bear’s eye or fight the Magnus Metus, I had been given these different tasks? If that was the case, and with ever passing minute I was more and more certain that it was, then the real question was where exactly the Rift was leading me. What did the Rift want from me? Surely I would have to comply before I went completely mad. It was a strange feeling, how I was aware that something was horribly wrong with my mind, yet at the same time powerless to fix it. 

Perhaps, if I thought hard enough, a workaround could be found. Maybe I had to fight this colt in particular, but if it could be helped, I’d instigate a fight without permanently hurting the stranger. Trying to formulate a plan amidst the chaos inside, this Rift-induced disease or whatever the like could be called, was akin to gathering up a million tiny pieces of a shredded picture and piece them back together again. Studying Vynter carefully, I finally decided to target the one thing that was most obvious: his lone wing. Hopefully this would be quick and minimally painful. "You only have one wing? Most all pegasi I’ve seen before have two." I turned my attention back to the child, trying my best to assume a condescending tone. Unsure how convincing my front really was, I forced a disdainful expression onto my features, eying the mass of feathers on the colt's back. Fighting was something I had seen enough of, even in my short life time, and there was nothing more painful than having to participate in any sort of violence, even when no blood would be shed. 

"Talk."

it does not steal the night —
it only unveils the beauty of the dark



img


 @Vynter
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Vynter the Hopebringer
#4
For once it would seem that he was not the only one who was enraptured by silence. He wasn't going to be the first to break it either. So it was when the unicorn finally broke their intense staring contest did Vynter get to hear his voice. Yet his question seemed oh so interesting. Who was Vynter anyway? Well, he was the son of Miykael and December, sister to Fenyx. He was awkward and confusing to interact with but he had an insatiable curiosity that had yet been quenched. He was gentle and kind although you wouldn't think it, and even though his main priority was to explore and research most would say his second was to help those in need.

This came forth in his mind when this man had asked a rather panicked question, beseeching someone help him to understand. Although Vynter didn't know exactly how to do that, or where the sudden outburst came from, it seemed only logical in his mind to at least try and answer. So he began to step a little closer to this man with delicate designs and deer antlers for a crown. That was until the next question left from his ivory lips.

Now maybe it was because of how he had left his meeting with Valkyrie and Rosco, or because it had been a long, hot day and his mind was growing tired. But for once in his life as Vynter calmly looked into those condescending eyes something seemed to just rub him entirely the wrong way. But the paint was never one that acted quickly, oh no, he needed to process the question as he did all others beforehand. Yet even as he did the world seemed to slow down around them, ready to stop at any moment as his mind began to rapidly pick up its pace in thought.

What kept crossing his mind was not only the man's question, but the questions others had about the same thing in his small lifespan. And with these came images of judgemental eyes, concerned stares and genuinely misplaced curiosity. And they began to go even faster, mixing in with conversations he would hear his father having with adults, who would ask how his son was to survive with such a grotesque birth defect. Would he ever have children they would say. What mare would find him pretty enough to want to let him sow his seed within her. Now to his father's credit he was always fiercely protective of him, always shutting down those who saw him as a flaw to be hidden away. Him and Fenyx saw nothing different about him, only loved and cherished who he was.

But they still couldn't protect him from the stares, the questions, the images of everyone flashing in his mind who claimed he didn't look right. And at the end of it all, the main thing that stuck out in the yearling's mind was the look of distaste on Valkyrie's beautiful complexion. How she had brushed him away like trash and cooed to Rosco, because Rosco was big and strong and had beautiful wings. And Vynter was nothing but wrong, wrong, wrong,-

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," amidst his deep thoughts he had failed to notice he had been saying the word aloud. He had failed to notice the fat tears falling down his cheeks and the way his head swayed back and forth in a negative motion. He had failed to notice how his body shook from uncontrollable sobs as all at once he looked back up at this man with hurt and anger in his eyes. And even though the boy wanted to yell mean and nasty things, to run forth and attempt to tear at the man's flawless skin, everything in his mind was telling him no, that there wasn't a point, because he would always be...

"WRONG!" he bellowed suddenly, it sounding halfhearted simply because Vynter never yelled. But he did and it felt terrible and liberating all at once. And as the tears fell and his sobs overtook him he finally made movement. Attempting to ram his head against the side of Rixen's shoulder, his teeth had been bared in pain and his expression simply distraught. Should he actually make a connection there would be no force behind it. If anything it would be a simple bump, and his head would rest there as he gasped for air. He would try again, and it would result in yet another futile attempt, because no matter how angry or hurt the boy was he could never try and hurt someone as they did him.

How could it be that in everyone's eyes all Vynter was was wrong, when at the end of the day all he did was try to do everything right.


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


@Rixen - so uh here's a thing... have fun bye!
Rixen the Vine King
#5
RIXEN
and if you are to love, love as the moon loves;

"Why so touchy? I asked a simple question. I wasn't expecting to evoke such a...response." I spoke seemingly with little regard for his obviously injured feelings. If anything, I ridiculed them. "...Then again, you are only a child. I shouldn't have expected much more than a tantrum." I added fuel to the fire, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. The Rift told me so. 

I’m sorry. 

The regret hit me as soon as the biting words careened from my lips. I’d take it back. I didn’t know when or where or how, but somehow I would. The child’s face said it all. There was no need for further explanation, no need for words to tell me the impact of why words. The hurt was greater than I’d imagined, but that did not make it any less painful for me to endure - and I wasn’t the innocent colt, who’d simply been curious and eager to make friends with a stranger.

I didn’t know why a question about his singular wing had made him break down. That was no matter, though, because it undoubtedly did. And if he felt one way or another about the things I said, who was I to say how he should react or how he should feel? Who was I to think I could validate his feelings, or anyone else’s, for that matter? If my words caused injury, in any way, shape or form, that injury was valid. What I’d said was no matter. My heart dropped in my chest, and I was sure the feeling was reflected in my expression, even if ever so slightly. I instantly felt awful and ridden with shame for what I’d done. Because I hurt him, and word of all, I meant to do it. 

Something had overcome me. I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was that it was the Rift that had corrupted me somehow, that had put the idea into my brain to speak to the poor child in such a manner with the intention of harming him. I’d said it a million times over, and I’d say it a million times over again: what was wrong with me? I so badly wanted to apologize, yet I could not bring myself to do it. The words would simply not come out of me.

I stood there before him, still as a statue in a state of shock at what I’d just done. For I could not believe it any more than the stranger could. My eyes were wide, reflecting a mixture of so many emotions, from surprise to guilt to utter horror. If I wasn’t the creature that I was, perhaps I would not have reacted to the situation in this way, because to most other horses it’d probably seem a little dramatic. Maybe it was. I didn’t care, though. My mind and heart screamed at me, because every ounce of my being knew that what I’d done was wrong. Sometimes I wished that I were different - that my tongue could be as abrasive as sand, like a wolf out to find that fatal artery in the throat and not feel an ounce of remorse. Who would I be then? The answer: a monster. Like my father was. What being with a heart could cause someone else even the smallest amount of hurt and then simply swat the impact away as one would a bothersome fly? I cared about how I made others feel. I had a heart; I was supposed to feel sorry. I did feel sorry.  

There were times my brain fried up. I knew it was no excuse. I could not blame the Rift; I ultimately owned my behavior. In that moment I was the least proud of who I was, for I failed to be the valiant creature I strove to be. I knew the moment I saw the tears dribble down the colt’s face, staining the grey fur beneath his eyes with dark streaks, visible evidence of the way I’d made him feel. In a mixture of hurt and anger, the colt lunged forward, aiming to hit my shoulder with his head. It wouldn’t make much of an impact, but that wasn’t why I didn’t defend myself. I absorbed the impact of the blow with a small grimace - I deserved it. 

"Talk."

it does not steal the night —
it only unveils the beauty of the dark



img


@Vynter poor bb :c
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Vynter the Hopebringer
#6
His question and words of disdain crowded his already frazzled mind, and he let them continuously spin within the confines of his conscious until he thought it might explode. The question had momentarily brought the rational side of his mind back to life, it tenderly prodding at his hurt ego and feelings with its own questions. What was the main reason he felt so devastated by such a simple statement? He wasn't one to irrationally respond to anything, and yet there he was crying and screaming and feebly smacking his head into a grown horse's shoulder.

But as hard as this rationale in his mind tried to conquer, it was easily swept away by the insecurities and hurt from not the ivory man's words; but Valkyries. It was she that was the root of the problem, the virus that plagued his mind and toyed with his critical voices like a siren luring a sailor into the sea. It was eyes of blue placed into a beautifully pale complexion that haunted his mind, a look of complete disinterest and perhaps even disgust lining her lashes. Then he was breathing heavier, lower lip quivering like a babe as he continued his rhythmic thumping his head against his shoulder.

It had become almost comforting; not because of the potential harm (read; nothing was happening) he could be inflicting, but because it was constant. It was the same thing at the same time over and over and over, and right now his mind relished the feeling of consistency. He was too mentally and emotionally exhausted by the inconsistencies happening in his sort lifespan, that at this point anything repetitive was a reprieve.

Yet even as he continued through these motions; the cogs were turning in his mind to understand; to comprehend why this man was compelled to act so rudely to him. Although his original question was innocent, his intentions certainly hadn't been. It was easy for others to assume that Vynter was a daft boy, when it actuality he was relatively bright. He had a gift for seeing past the first layer of emotions, and if he had seen into Rixen's eyes this would have been made obvious, but perhaps it was because of his currently heightened emotional state he was unable to handle this like he normally would.

And perhaps this was also why he abruptly paused in his head-thumping; and then moved to put himself into a more upright posture and shoulders squared. He had taken time to wipe the tears away from his skull, and after brief sniffling, he looked the man right in the eyes and began to speak in a firm; neutral voice,"Apologize for being rude."


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


@Rixen
Rixen the Vine King
#7
RIXEN
and if you are to love, love as the moon loves;

Regret washed over me like the long, slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave was icy cold and sent shivers down my spine. How I longed to go back and take a different path. Perhaps I could have forced the Rift from my mind, but now that was impossible. There was no way back. There was no way to make it right but to say two words aloud. Even if I did aplogize, there was no taking back what I’d said, or rather how I’d said it. The child’s impression of me was tarnished and I worried that there would be a way to undo any of it. Even if the right words never came out of me, in my heart I retracted what I’d said. 

This led to me thinking: was I supposed to win this “fight”? How would I do that? I couldn’t bring myself to cause the colt any more trouble; I could not keep up my act any longer. Not here, and not now. If the Rift wanted to play its games, I’d allow it a few more days. But I did not want to continue what I’d started, even if the Rift had other plans. 

I’m sure the surprise showed on my face when the child forced back his tears, stood upright again, and looking me directly in the eyes, demanded that I apologize to him. My emerald gaze did not shy away from his blue one. Undoubtedly, I owed him an apology. In fact, I would just explain everything to him right then and there. Maybe then he would understand, and we could be on the way to making amends. 

Opening my mouth, I paused momentarily to consider just what I was going to say. After deciding the order in which I’d present the situation, I began with a deep breath. In doing so, my demeanor seemed to transform. My emotionless expression softened, a silent a way of showing my true nature, which I liked to believe was kind and friendly, and even more so in the presence of children. "Let me begin with the two words that I most certainly owe to you: I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt your feelings - I meant none of that about your wing. Please allow me to explain." I spoke with care, so that he might have the best chance of understanding me. All the while, the whispers in the back of my mind began to start up again. Subtle they were, but present nonetheless. The question once again lingered in my thoughts: was I going mad? "My name is Rixen. I don’t recall seeing you around the Rift before, so I don’t know how much you know about this place… but there are tasks the Rift assigns you, called “trials.” I’m not exactly sure why. I don’t know too much about them." Come to think of it, I didn’t really even recall how I knew this piece of information. I’d learned it somewhere, from someone, but was lost for an answer as to where or who. "Mine was to pick a fight with someone..." I trailed off, not really knowing how to explain my actions. There was no explanation. Everything just sort of… happened.

"Talk."

it does not steal the night —
it only unveils the beauty of the dark



img


@Vynter
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}
Vynter the Hopebringer
#8
It was as if his words had broken a spell over the man, because before his eyes he melted away from a snooty man to one filled with deep regret. His eyes were pained, and he seemed uncertain of where to go with his wording. It took Vynter aback for a moment, his eyebrows raising slightly as he listened to the hesitant words pouring out of this man's mouth. What was once perceived as arrogance was really a spell that Rift had put over him. Yet the boy didn't know if he could entirely believe that. Because although he was quite aware of the Rift's capabilities, why was it when he had decided to stand up for himself and make this rude man apologize did he suddenly decide to bring up why he had been so awful originally.

Despite this the boy was one to give the benefit of the doubt, yet his emotional mind that was battered and done with the constant ridicule didn't want to forgive and forget. Yet even then Vynter couldn't muster up any anger or hatred for this man. He couldn't let the rage take over and blind him into lashing out and giving him what he deserved. He couldn't take the time to insult or let him know just how awful of a horse he was for saying such things to an innocent child. Nothing would come of it because it just wasn't in his nature to be that way. It never would be.

So even though he was not happy with this man, and right now he didn't really like this man; the boy took the time to stare him in his eyes and listen to everything he had to say. And once he knew the stranger was in fact finished with his rambling apology that he was still uncertain of its sincerity, he simply nodded his head and replied,"okay," and promptly turned around and walked away.


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


@Rixen - Vynter exit. I hope that helped Yoko! I apologize for Vynter and his strangeness xD
Rixen the Vine King
#9
RIXEN
and if you are to love, love as the moon loves;

"Wait-" I began, wanting to further my apology. But the boy was already gone before any more words could escape my lips. I was both confused and surprised that he did not question me further. He simply nodded, acknowledging what I’d said before disappearing into the trees. I did even catch his name. Hopefully I’d cross paths with him again. Then, I’d make proper amends. The last thing I wanted was for there to be bad blood between us. There probably already was, but hopefully it wouldn't remain for an excessively long amount of time. Not if it could be helped. Solace lay in the fact that he was only child, with many years ahead of him. Fortunately children most tended to be forgiving. The youngest of us, from my experience, were best at letting go of all negative emotions and memories, able to move on with whatever positives remained. 

I was still standing there in the clearing, the events that had taken place in the past few moments replaying in my mind as I struggled to comprehend them. For it wasn’t necessarily the circumstances or the guilt of what just happened that was puzzling, but rather how I was feeling. It was a mixture of a slight churning of my stomach and a foreign, albeit nagging anxiety. I was vaguely aware of a change in myself, a strange feeling that could not quite be placed, perhaps a side effect of the Rift’s trial, if what I’d told the child was correct. However, at the same time I was unaware that trials came with side effects (or how they worked at all for that matter), but then again, this was not home - this was the Rift. In this land, anything, even the unimaginable, seemed to be possible. Including whatever unshakeable magical force that’d overtaken me. What would completing the tasks lead me to? Why were they assigned to me, of all horses? Throughout my life, every situation seemed to beg the same question: why me

There was only one way to find out, of course. As if they’d read my thoughts, the two remaining tasks danced across my mind on eerie whispers, a reminder that there was still work to be done if I was to get to the bottom of this. Along the way I’d find someone who would further inform me about these trials. Maybe they’d even be so kind as to offer their assistance. 

"Talk."

it does not steal the night —
it only unveils the beauty of the dark



img


Thank you :D No worries!
{Image: untitled_drawing_by_indelyde-dceus9t.png}