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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

Out of the cauldron and into the fire?
Mature/Trigger Warning Rainforest Cliffs 
After her blind, and in hindsight moronic, spontaneous jaunt out to sea, Valkyrie had made a rather sensible commitment to herself, to think before acting out on such whims. Any number of meaningless deaths could have befallen her beneath the murky blue, southernmost horizon; and all that she had conquered thus far would have been for nothing…
She was glad to be back on the beach, to drink in one lungful and then another of the muggy, briny air wafting along its length. For a long while she simply stood, basking in the bountiful, burning heat of the sun (for the ocean floor was a horribly unusual, bone-chillingly cold place), trying to rid some of the remaining water from her soggy, irritated skin. As the cleansed, creamy fibres began to warm, patches of crystallised salt began to form beneath, around each follicle, creating incessant itchiness that she moved to attack impatiently, with flashing, raking teeth.
No sooner did one frustration in the Rift ease, than another came to light.
Passing a final, sweeping scan out beyond the lazy shoreline, the Daughter of the Shield moved off towards the base of the cliff. She fossicked eagerly among the puny crags and dim, dark crevices there, hunting for the spear and the orb she had so carelessly left behind. By some stroke of luck, she stumbled across them further west than she recalled, but the only scent upon their cool surfaces was that of her own; Valkyrie felt satisfied that they were yet untouched by strangers. Spilling a soft sigh down against her possessions, she retrieved first the orb (discovered by the portal), and then her beloved spear – at some point she would need to secure a better mode of transporting them.
The climb up the rickety cliff path was a lot harder than the previous descent. The sun this time was resting low to the west and its unforgiving glow smothered the old, weather-beaten rock in full; already dry, the rays only heated her to a new level of discomfort and it was not long at all before a fresh sheen of sweat glinted and gleamed as she moved. Arriving at the top, the pale horse bid a swift retreat into the humid stillness of the rainforest.
This time, Valkyrie walked between the old wood and dense shrubbery with wariness and care. She made sure to side step around any surface that seemed coated by moss and skirted generously, the tentacled-plants, which had inflicted burns upon both of her legs on the left. She was learning. This was progress. Not too far along the way, she found the same tree which had served as a safe post to rest against and pressed a second time against it, closing her blood-stained eyes gradually before succumbing to the pull of sleep. The items she carried fell from her slackened jaw.

For any <3
He himself had come from the ocean where Valkyrie had encounter Kis. Though she was there the stallion had not seen her. In fact he would not have cared to meet her acquaintance if he had. His pace holding far more confidence then that of Valkyrie. He was a native of this land, as such he knew the dangers to look out for. The plants to avoid and the ones to eat. This afforded him some measure of confidence, but it did not mean he was overly so. Knowing his homeland as well as he did meant he understood that he knew nothing. Things could change at the drop of a feather. Nothing was assured. But that did not bother the light colored stallion. To be a true native was to accept and expect these changes. One had to adapt, and quickly, or die.

Perhaps someone else would take pity on Valkyrie and all of her misfortune. But the hardened stallion was no such creature. Toughen up, or get out. That was his simple view of things. That didn't mean he was heartless, if the mare was in immediate danger the stoic man would have lent a hoof. But when it came to things he knew people were more than capable of handling themselves, he had no pity. As he moved through the vegetation he came right by the mare, collapsed with exhaustion. His clear gaze swept over her. Taking in her dirty coat, the injuries, everything. She was breathing, her sides moving up and down. Strong and steady. With little concern he began skirting around her, his pace barely faltering as he walked. He was not the type to socialize, or ask this stranger if she was okay. Because he saw that, despite the burns and dirt, she was unharmed. Just resting. Though her choice of sleeping places was rather ill-planned. She was exposed and an easy target for predators.

Was see really so stupid? Or had she collapsed from exhaustion. He had no idea how long she had been laying there, and he would not stop to ask. But no matter how much he didn't care to socialize, he found himself slightly irritated by the mare. If she had been so tired why hadn't she tried to find shelter before she had collapsed. Only a moron would push themselves to far without reason. One had to be smart in order to survive out here. As he walked by he gave a flick of his tail, the ends of it brushing one of her ears. It was not a light touch, and only someone in a seriously deep sleep would ignore the sting. He kept walking, not caring if he had managed to wake her up or not. If it had he would wonder if she would realize just how easily he could have attacked her. He knew more than a few creatures, and horses that would have gladly taken advantage of her. In a way, she was lucky he had happened upon her. Even though he was already leaving her behind.

talk talk talk talk
I'm sorry if you don't like my honest.
But to be fair,
I don't like your lies.

ooc: Ru walks by, smacking Val's ear with his tail as he goes passed.

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  
Pallid lashes flung open as Valkyrie was startled back into consciousness by the sudden snap of a blue-tipped tail against the retired cup of her ear. The glassy blue gaze lurking between them narrowed swiftly into an unmistakable scowl as they settled upon the filthy, damp and unkempt rump of the culprit stranger.

“HEY…” she shouted loudly and indignantly after him, entirely incautious of the way his towering, muscular physique dwarfed her own, slender, feminine size. Rose-brushed lips hastened to retrieve the metal spear where it lay, caught between mangled roots and the glow of the orb which lingered on and visibly bristling, she afterwards moved to prevent his departure.

The Shieldmaiden would not be ignored by an insolent, insignificant male…

Dancing lightly (luckily clear of the part-sunken timber), forward upon her sound, perfect toes and with a shock of adrenaline-fuelled blood seething hotly through her veins, Valkyrie goaded him boldly (foolishly), “It’s all too cliche. Man preying upon women as they sleep…” A delightedly snide smile slithered about the arrogant purge of her thoughts - or presumptions, for she could not have been certain that he was in fact, such a blight - and she tempted to glance about his flanks to validate the accusation.

Swinging her skull brazenly to the right beneath a sweep of clean white hair, she dared the blade of her weapon to slice the space dividing them, deliberately ignoring the importance of personal boundaries, just as he had done before.

What the dauntless young Daughter lacked in good-sense, she made up for tenfold, in attitude and overconfidence… If by some reasonable, respectable chance, the other swung his tattered bulk around to confront her, Valkyrie was poised and prepared upon bent knees, ready to react.

Boy was she loud! Her reaction was full of such indignant fury that it was hard for the stallion not to break out laughing. Take advantage of her? Was she seriously so naïve, so...oblivious? Who the heck would start their advantage-taking by waking up their victim with a simple tail flick to the ear? No, they would have used other means. Means in which that would have left her incapable of retrieving that weapon of her. He was not a large stallion, but he was certainly bigger than her. In such an exposed position as she was, he could have easily rendered her defenseless.

As she bustled about, huffing and puffing like a muddy little storm cloud, Ruwin paused. He regarded her out of the corner of his eye, his head cocking to stare down at her. "If I had attacked you." The he said. "You would be dead." The look in his eye was cold and serious. He held himself in a way that told anyone with any sense that he was not a creature to trifle with. A seasoned warrior. Maybe she saw and felt the same heavy air about him when she stood next to her older and better maidens in her home. Felt is as they fought and proved their strength. He wouldn't know. He wouldn't care. But he was not about to be accused of trying to take advantage of a lady. He had far too much respect for them to do that.

Normally he remained unassuming, his demeanor geared towards not attracting attention. But her accusation had irked him. Couldn't she see things for what they were? Surely someone had enough sense to look at a situation with a logical stand point. This ire caused that other presence to appear. The one his father had been able to use to silence a room. He continued to look at her, a stare strong enough to make ice crack under the pressure. "It took me taking the time to wake you up for you to realize I was here. An attacker would not be so courteous of a lady laying prone upon the ground. Nor would they leave your weapon within such easy reach." His voice flowed from his mouth, possessing that same measure confidence and honesty as his posture. "Do not project your frustrations, at letting yourself become so exposed, towards me."

He was not at all intimidated by her spear or her actions. The distance between them was still enough to give him time to react, should she try and attack him. Suddenly, as quickly as the emotion came, it vanished. The irritation retreated and the presence he possessed dissipated like fog in the sunlight. Like a parent who was simply fed up with this game and the child they were playing it with. What was the point getting so worked up over this again? His logical mind saw no reason for it. It was childish and he shouldn't let this kid work him up. Seriously, what was wrong with him? He couldn't let his disappointment in the lackadaisical results, that arose within the sunken city, get to him so. And surely he should not take it out upon a child. As standoffish and arrogant as she might be.

His eyes narrowed as he continued to look at her. His piercing, crystal blue seeming to stare right through her. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "Typical feministic ideals, believe that every man would attack a woman as she sleeps." he muttered under his breath as he moved to leave. "Not all of us have such lowly views of mares. " And now he sounded like an old geezer bemoaning the wrongs of youth these days. Ugh. Why was he talking so much? he sighed. "Some of us were taught to respect a woman." Though she was acting like a filly pretending to be a tough mare. It was doubtful she was listening to his quiet ramblings. Most likely she was processing everything else he had said before exploding again. If her first reaction was any indicator. And so his gaze never left her, his movements never taking him close to that spear. In fact he had angled himself in a way so that one of his metal wings, protecting his side, was facing her should she suddenly charge. He was ready to fight if she desired, but only if she made the first move.

talk talk talk talk
I'm sorry if you don't like my honest.
But to be fair,
I don't like your lies.

ooc: Ru is apparently in a ranting mood. Wow. Val, how did you do that?

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  
Tactless and feisty, quite incapable of understanding the real danger the Rift’s otherworldly inhabitants presented (or her very plausible vulnerability among them), the young horse swayed giddily, caught up quick-fast in the wild wind of her adolescent excitement. Perhaps Vynter had been an entirely unnecessary focus; maybe this brown git would fit the mould her rather perverted intention perfectly!

Rising to the bait of his retort like a moth to the flame, Valkyrie fanned out the pristine feathers behind the intricate wings of their shielding helm; her padded breast inflated, the proud fjord-type crest beneath the  cascade of near-white mane arched and the soft blue colour in her eyes sparkled with malice that seemed not to suit her otherwise dovelike image.

Though her small neat hooves skipped and skidded through the rotting litter across the forest floor like horny jackrabbits in the spring, and despite the antagonising method she used to rile his reaction, the stallion about-faced, seemed hardly even to flinch; his voice, however, was stern, authoritarian (her rebellious mindset decided), and she met the cold gaze which fell back to find her, with a cocky glare, equally unfriendly.

The tendrils of her own long, lavish tail licked eagerly across each flexing thigh. Should there have been a warning present in his tone or his eye, the shameless young Shieldmaiden paid it no heed. Valkyrie longed to see his putrid, predictable worth unravel; she craved his retaliation, an insult to validate the hatred boiling in her belly. Suddenly the prize she’d seen in Vynter’s undoing seemed too easy, and her ambition set upon a far grander trophy.

An ear… or a horn… they seemed like such trivial goals. No. This was a competition and she refused to settle for any small token.

His manner was poised and proper, smooth and confident (a mere glint of frustration). This one wasn’t as sensitive as the first; he stood ground, and defiantly, she did too. Perhaps a change of tactics would crack his exterior and expose the vile animal which huddled beneath. Valkyrie had listened well in her classes, she was so sure, so convinced. Her determination to unhinge him (there, while they were alone) was ruthless as the understanding of the word was distorted.

There was no broader viewpoint.

Her fidgeting ceased suddenly and her ostentatious display slimmed to a posture less hostile. Fine, pointed ears leaned attentively against the sound of the words he lastly offered and her eyes flicked broodingly between the cool grip of his own. Though his suggestion that he could have morals beyond that basic feral instinct snagged her fancy (she scoffed quietly, obnoxiously, glancing away for the slightest of seconds), Valkyrie could not see past suspicion - he, man, were crafty and deceptive. She would not so easily fall to the persuasive spell of silly words. Vynter had tried flattery - pretty…

As the heat through her core began to dissipate (though the hubris did not), she looked a little closer and notice that he wore a queer sheet of metal, where perhaps a wing like Roscorro’s should have grown; also did she note the series of brands upon his skin, strange blue whip lines - similar to those dealt to her by that wretched, burning plant. “So are you a slave?” She blurted suddenly, a new interest fashioning through her mind; and a second thought, “What purpose has a horse in the middle of the ocean?”

She was denser than he thought. She didn't even pick up on his previous warnings or demeanor. How the heck was she still alive out here? The mechanical spiders crawled in his mane and down his body, reacting to Valkyrie's presence and their master's previous irritation. The more time he spent with this girl the more he was becoming tired of her presence. Dealing with shallow, arrogant, and cocky youngsters was not his thing. That anger was cooling within him as Valkyrie continued to put on her 'special' air. It wasn't hard to tell tat she didn't believe a word he had said. She had a very specific view of stallions, one that would be shaken quite a bit the longer she remained within this world.

Either a male was going to come along and flatten her and take everything she had. Or she would find a stallion that would be able to get through to her thick skull that all men are not bad. Where was she even from? She was certainly not a native. She was eyeing him like some sort of prize to take home and hang on her wall. Who the heck raised this one? He regarded her coolly, his face returning to its stoic expression. He felt no discomfort as her eyes roved over him. Though he was tempted to make some form of remark about how she was the one looking over his body while his own eyes never roamed. Funny, how one could be so blinded by their beliefs that they do not notice their own faults.

"Are you a slave?"

The question caused him to raise a brow. A slave? Is that what she thought his tattoos were? How amusing. He went from prince, to destroyer of kingdoms, to roamer, to slave. How funny. He gave a slow shake of his head. "No. The marks are from the Rift." He stated, flat and simple. At her next question his reply was more on par with that of his usual self. "I could ask you the same question." He remained on guard, though outwardly he appeared just as calm and emotionless as before. in fact, he seemed to be growing disinterested in their little chat. But all the while he had taken note of her change in posture, the reduction of her fidgeting. She was up to something. He could feel it. A spider found its way to the top of his head, its gears clicking and whirring as it sat perched between his ears. It watched the mare with the gems positioned in place of eyes. Others sidestepped onto his metal wings, working their way into the enchanted engines where they would tinker and toy, testing things with their legs. Others clicked along the long metal feathers. Once these wings moved like appendages, enabling him to glide. Now they did nothing but remain elegantly folded at his sides. But soon they would move again. Once the rift saw fit to accept his request for a trial.

The machines could sense the alertness of their master and had become agitated. Some had even lefts his body, leaping to plants where they would stand sentry. Funny how they could act on their own, spurred by the magic that gave them life. It was only they that gave away that their master was ready for this mare to pull a fast one or attack. He did not trust her. She changed and shifted too much.

talk talk talk talk
I'm sorry if you don't like my honest.
But to be fair,
I don't like your lies.

ooc: I will go ahead and wait for Vy to respond. it seems like a good spot for him to come in?

@Vynter @Valkyrie
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  
The marked beast shook his rugged, salty face (for the ocean was drying quickly upon them both in the balmy heat of the day), and suggested the world around them, the Rift, had dealt them - but Valkyrie was hardly listening, she was inspecting the savage set of thorns now, which had apparently taken root upon the ridge of his nose… Roscorro had a similar imperfection, not that she could recall what they looked like exactly (she had been so distracted after all), and the young girl figured presumptuously, that the giant’s had come to fruition much the same way. How unfortunate.

Hideous looking things…

She took no notice as he challenged her last question.

“And I suppose the Rift slapped to those things onto your face too?" She supposed nothing said dickhead more than a symbolic dick on your head… She chuckled softly, amusedly beneath her breath, and looked towards the glint of chattering reptile as it vanished into the hollow of a tree. The Rift certainly knew purity and perfection when it stumbled in, that was for sure; Valkyrie had passed through the shadow-field surrounding the portal without so much as a second glance - having said that, she’d well and truly misplaced her ability to think her spear to life, and that loss had been round about the same time.

A strange noise - not the soft whisper of wind through the leaves, nor the pretty waffle of insect-life (certainly not the clever, ever entertaining passage of her thoughts) - called her notice back to the man. Between his ears, upon the mess of oily tangles, now sat a … it looked like a spider...! Surely it wasn’t that tiny metal critter clicking and whirring? Valkyrie frowned in earnest. “I think I can hear your brain working overtime, would you like to lie down?” Men were thick after all, and no amount of respect for him rattled in the frighteningly empty recesses of her (lack of), conscious.

More of them appeared, and she examined each across the distance with a furrowing brow.

Not that she was expecting normal to present itself - not down here.

“What are they? A demented breed of flea?” she hissed disgustedly through tightening teeth, sliding her lean limbs into reverse. The Shieldmaiden was not particularly fond of bugs, crawling, fluttering pests, and for a moment her skin trembled, wildly discomforted by the puny presence. “You are spreading them!” She scolded suddenly, honest alarm rising with the pitch of her voice; as the spiders travelled to sagging branches about the repulsive vagrant, Valkyrie’s posture began again to stiffen, and slithering back still another step, she lifted the end of the spear in warning.  

"I would suggest not saying such things to others. Some male, or female, unicorn would run their horn through your heart for such a remark. Especially when such an insult was coming from a Pegasus who's wings are useless for flight." He said flatly, becoming bored of her holy than though attitude. She was childishly trying to goad him on. Provoke him into attacking, but it did not work. "Honestly, some would kill you simply for not being of their kind. Imperfect, unworthy." He was done with this creature. "If you cannot distinguish between horse breeds after being alive for a year, you truly are a naïve child. You clearly know nothing of the rift and its dangers either." He pointedly looked at her burns. "With your demeaning view of men and your haughty, presumptuous attitude, I doubt many will remain long enough to teach you."

Again with the words. She spewed more out as she balked at his spiders. "Can't even distinguish between a spider and flee." he gave a disdainful snort. "Let alone tell if they are living or created by magic." Sensing the girl's fear of them the spiders rushed towards her, those upon the plants nearest her leaped at her with surprising strength. If they landed upon her one particularly small one would find a hiding place within her armor where it planned to remain unnoticed. Ruwin did noting to correct them, instead he encouraged them to keep her at bay while he walked off. He would have nothing more to do with this child. Before he disappeared entirely though, his voice would drift towards her with one last ounce of advice. If you could call it that. "You will not survive long here, especially if you keep insulting others and sleeping so exposed. The rift is not kind to the dumb and arrogant."

talk talk talk talk
I'm sorry if you don't like my honest.
But to be fair,
I don't like your lies.


ooc: Ruwin has left the thread. These two need to meet again!
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  
There seemed to be no masking (nor any desire to do so), the dislike each respective party had for the other. While the stallion endeavoured to warn his feisty opposition, sliding subtle insults along the way, she’d regarded him with a wearying, glassy eye and a rudely gaping yawn - Valkyrie really didn’t value his minor opinion. His flat tone and pointed glare was altogether unimpressive…

And it was too hot to maintain her bother.

He spoke on of unicorns - is that what he represented? - and their laughable desire to run horns through her heart; she’d chuckled at this, for his were less than intimidating and it seemed unlikely that they’d break far enough through his own male-ego to find her pretty flesh. Neither was she overly troubled by the suggestion that she be anything short of perfect. The defiant young Shieldmaiden knew well that her very existence spawned from something magical, faultless and flawless, unlike he, who had been cursed with ugly masculinity from the very start.

And he was a unicorn…

Perhaps her (limited) respect for Roscorro was thinning too; in fact, the whole of the Rift thus far, was rather hard to take seriously. Monsters, males and cities in the sea…

Valkyrie’s eyes flicked suddenly towards the stallion’s glinting fleas as they hummed and clicked again into motion. “I don’t care what you call them,” she spat, turning her white ears backwards and watching the vermin scatter from their unclean, wordy host into the shrubbery surrounding. She couldn’t possibly observe them all at once and tucking her rosy chin, shuffled further backwards; the smallest, with a voice overwhelmed by its oncoming plague, leapt with gusto from its perch and slipped quickly beneath the fine weave of her flattened down feathers.

The Daughter didn’t notice, she was turning, as was he, and swept away into the whisper of the forest to avoid contamination.