the Rift

[OPEN] SWP :: Once upon a wave :: (Intro)

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme

Aithniel, now fully formed and built more like her mother than she knew, flew toward the islands just south of her home. Her head was in chaos after Gaucho's death. Her hero, the father of her children... he was dead! DEAD! Now the two babes would never know their father, and quite honestly, she had lost track of where they had gone. The community of raising children was almost too good in the Dragon's Throat, and they all seemed to band together after Gaucho's death.

The new leaders was not Aithniel's favorite, however. She wanted to scowl at the thought of that nurse being the head of a once-great herd. Aith snorted mid-flight and grumbled angrily, knowing she would have to do something about that. For the first time in her life, she set her sights on leadership, and she knew she would have to prove her place. The goddess couldn't just challenge a herd favorite without doing the work to back it up, but she was the daughter of the Sun himself!

She would make it happen or set fire to to those who stood in her way.

Fortunately, another sight caught her attention. A large gathering was happening on the isles all surrounding some sort of... fish... thing.

What else was she supposed to call it?

Aithniel spiraled downwards and narrowed her stony gaze at the creature, not trusting it for one minute! This reminded her too much of all the other random shit that appeared in Helovia and wanted to wreak havoc. Either way, she owed it to her father to learn more and tell him about what was happening. Aith landed roughly in the sand and trotted over at the last minute, barely catching the final statements about wanting to get to know everyone blah blah.

She said nothing, but she was watching...

I'll go down burning in your embrace

Tabini with many thanks to the amazing Blu

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive

Please tag me in everything!

Luther Posts: 10
Absent Abyss
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 hh :: 3 months
"Sleep with the feathers of angels stuffed beneath your head"
Luther had been trying to teach himself how to fly, and the community in the Dragon's Throat were doing their best to help him succeed. With black and red wings spread wide, he would glide from rock to dune and drill these exercises with a force of will rivaling that of the rock itself. There was not a spare moment spent experiencing little pleasures or play, even when he tried his best to do so with his brother. Something in his very soul drove him to be stronger, faster and more powerful than the day before.

He was driven.

So, when he saw a gathering on islands across the way, Luther was mostly disinterested. The goings on of the world were not his concern for now. He had to get stronger and bigger before he could make that kind of impact. The boy was aware of his small size and youth, and though he grumpily denied the fact that he was a child... he was still a child. Somethings in life not even force of will could chance.

Luther grew awkwardly and continued to file his horns down, uncomfortable with their look. Adolescent mane got in the way, so he rubbed it out on trees. Thanks to their mother, he was used to keeping his coat clean, so at least he didn't look entirely feral. He did have some manner of pride, you know.

The gathering seemed to be growing bigger and his yellow eyes kept bouncing back toward it. An ocean lay between them and himself, and it was an expanse he could not fly. Mathèo seemed interested as well since he was near the edge of the island, but when a bridge suddenly appeared, Luther watched him walk across without hesitation. Luther's brows furrowed and he churned his legs through the sand to try to reach his brother. There was no way he would let anything happen to his twin.

Once across, he found his sibling and stood close by, grumbling a "hello" before listening to this strange creature speak. Everything seemed so... annoying, really, but the sea thing seemed benevolent enough. "What do you think?" he asked his brother.

Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin


Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd

          Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be?
Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally

Isopia turned slightly, not wanting to remove her amber gaze entirely from the creature, as @Tyrath addressed her. "Hello grandchild of the sun." She said, her voice a hair softer than it normally was, which for Isopia was nearly the equivalent of a wide aural smile. She liked the death-masked boy, and the hollow-ness that he had brought her before, when memories of Volterra still flooded her mind, had been filled. No longer did she have any thoughts regarding his lineage, and so his presence beside her was nothing other than a welcome interruption. He was a clever boy, and she liked that. Hubris whistled his approval, waving at the child happily. The demigoddess dipped her head as he departed from her, her stare returning to the newly arrived creature.

Ahead, she could hear Zero babbling on and on, and again a smile wanted to touch her lips. But a healthy dose of skepticism kept them planted firmly together as she listened to what Kisamoa had to say.

Help him? Water God?

Her Father had never mentioned him before .. but nor had he ever mentioned the multitude of minions that constantly aided him in his tasks. Was this really so strange? As her Father's daughter, she assumed she should probably say something. To advocate for this creature's purpose here, to show her support, but instead she merely remained silent. Isopia didn't like being told what to do, even when it was phrased as a question.

Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::

Benevolently, he smiled at them. He was not ignorant of the distrust that practically wafted off of the group, but nor was it unexpected. "Friends, please. I am not like the Gods who normally descend. I am but a humble servant, please, speak plainly with me. You are curious, skeptical, unsure. Is it not so?" He turned to look at him, sparkling gaze surveying the crowd.  "The Gods act in mysterious ways, or so you have been told. Your Sun God burned down acres and acres of land and was banished. His sister murdered your loved ones and friends, and even more recently, a handful of new Gods appeared and were promptly cut down. I healthy dose of skepticism about one such as I appearing out of the sea, is only natural." His mismatched teeth came together in a dazzlingly handsome smile.

"Take some time to think it over, won't you? Until then, I shall begin the process myself. When we are all good and ready, I shall tell you what I need of you, and perhaps you will have seen enough of me to know that my motives and intentions are true."

He didn't mind. Although his task needed to be completed swiftly, he was happy to begin on his own. They would see that he was no threat, that in fact his appearance here was a benefit to them. But a shiny crown to a child, did not a friendship make.

But he had time. He would show them.

Kisamoa is going to go about his business! Look for him when he pops up! :D

Kvasir Posts: 25
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.3 :: 2 years
There was such a multitude of equine, ranging from the very smallest to the very largest. My blue eyes were forced away from the fantastic creature to stare as more appeared. I saw some I recognized, but do I say a greeting? My gaze fixes on Tembovu, the king of the Worlds Edge. Would he remember me? I think he might not, and so I remain where I stand. There are others I recognize from the Edge, a beautiful white filly, who was at least a year older than I, but man she stood out. She had a limp, and crooked joint... And she was so small... I was at least her height by now.

There are others too. So many around my age. A filly with brilliant markings, making her look as if a patchwork quilt,and then there was the herd... The herd of children who looked so much alike... They had to all be related in some way. And there where others, a boy without wings, and then the two brothers, one so delicate and beautiful, the other red and moody. The adults who appeared where impressive as well. Obviously next to Tembovu everyone else was dwarfed, but a mare stood, who in my own opinion overpowered him. But I saw Ranjiri, who was pregnant with dads child. She carried my sibling. My only sibling. Carefully I moved through the crowd to stand by her side, I gently nudge her, before focusing back on the creature and his words.

He asked for help, in a job to help the land recover... "You have my help Kisamoa." I say. I smile brightly, and listen as he addresses us all once more. I would keep an eye out, and I would help whenever possible.


mama, just killed a man
put a gun against his head
pulled my trigger, now he's dead
mama, life had just begun
but now i've gone and thrown it all away
mama, ooo
didn't mean to make you cry


Mentions all the Volterra babes, @Matheo and @Luther , @Bathsheba, @Virga, and totally crushes on @Erthë.

See's @Tembovu, admires @Isopia, and directly interacts with @Ranjiri
[Image: 56a07107f15a9]

Shida Posts: 109
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 (ages in Birdsong) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Princess :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd

Here I am, minding my own fucking business when everyone just goes all Pied Piper and runs to the fucking islands.

Oh but Shida, where have you been? We've missed you this season on Days of Helovia. Well kitten, let me tell you. Not everyone is a main character, and if my ass showed up in every one of your damn scenes, you'd just be so wowed and overcome by my graceful and poetic nature that nothing would get done around this place. So sometimes I just got to set my ass aside and let others have the spotlight every now and then.

You know, be all gracious and shit.

But anyway, neither Princess nor I (listen to me, nor I, fucking Shakespeare over here) , could resist following this little lemming parade (now I know what you're gonna say, But Shida, doesn't that make you a lemming too? and the answer is no it damn doesn't, because you see, lemmings don't know they're being lemmings. Knowledge is power, kids). So now here we are, watching some monster from the blue lagoon fucking pop out of the water.

Kisa-what? Pretty sure he said Casanova.

Now he's asking for help and bitches are muttering about it, and I'm just really wishing I had stayed back in the Throat where it was warm and where water monsters weren't handing out chore lists.

I looked at Princess, Princess looked at me, and we both smirked and shook our heads.
"Fucking classic." I sneered at the hellhound, who nodded in agreement. Fucking classic Helovia, with monsters (or Gods or whatever) just popping up and delegating tasks and these bitches just going along with it.

Enjoy losers. Shida's got some margaritas to make.

Coding by Tamme. Image here

Larue Posts: 45
Absent Abyss
Filly :: Unicorn :: 13 hh :: 1
The little filly’s mother is not far behind her lemony tricks, though the tart trickster had been entirely engrossed in her travels so the gentle and loving nuzzle at her neck came as a complete surprise. She started, head whipping around and ears swiveling forward, teal eyes wide as they met mom’s dark grey. Larue secretly loved her mom’s eyes—they were warm and calm and safe. Not that’d she tell her mom that. Imagine the horror. So many more loving nuzzles.

Anyhow, the small squirt nudged her dam back, hard, Mooom,” was her muttered, bemoaning response to her mother’s affections. She ducked her head, lightly stomping a hind leg against a random sea creature’s skull that created the bridge and semi-rolling her eyes. But she wasn’t really annoyed, it was more a show than anything else. ”Come and see!” Her head craned back towards the strange creature as Virga called for her to come see whatever it was in reply to her question.

Bright, candied eyes look questioningly up at Aisling—not truly asking for permission, but moreso asking for assurance that whatever this strange thing was, that it would be safe. And she was met with a kind warning (which Larue just stopped rolling her eyes at) and a michevious wink (which was met with a delighted giggle and a soft bump of her candied muzzle against Aisling’s grey). So she scampered off the bridge, lemon freckled ears perked forward to catch whatever this guy (—Kis—) was saying.

And though her curiosity was at defcon 10, she was not inclined to openly pledge her help with anything. She knew, from experience, that when adults said ’help’ what they really meant was ’work’. And ’work’ was no fun. So, instead, she simply muttered under her breath, “I’ll wait and see, Kis.”

@Aisling mentioned

Please tag in all posts.

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu


The dark colt's head turned, Iskra saw him. Their eyes met briefly, but then it was as if Virga blinked, unseeing, and turned back around with no further indication or response. Iskra hung for a moment, his big smile still there, his lungs still empty after the shout, his wings still faintly raised in a wave; and then he deflated. The grin faltered into a slack jawed frown, and he breathed in only to huff the breath back out, while his wings sagged at his sides as if damp. Gingerly the boy's 'brow furrowed in confusion and lack of understanding.

"He must not have heard me," Iskra said gently to himself. His teal gaze lifted, picking out the star-speckled boy and his sister easily enough, and his head tilted faintly to the left as he regarded them for just one final instant before turning his attention away. It was a moment of doubt, of hurt, of mistrust. Iskra knew Virga saw him and purposefully chose not to come over, but that reality was harsh, implying Virga didn't want to be near him, didn't want to be his friend- it suggested negative feelings to Iskra, like embarrassment, and anger. He didn't want those things though, so instead he chose to gloss over the truth, and gave Virga the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah, he just didn't hear me is all. That's it, he'd have come over if he had.There's lots of horses here, it's easy to not see me.

The sea monster provided a fabulous distraction anyway, Iskra finally snagging a peek of him while his ears tipped forward to listen to the strange crooning voice. "Oh," he exclaimed once he realized this wasn't a party, but something much much more awesome. This was something important.

"Didja hear that Matty!?" Iskra nearly squealed with delight, his crest feathers all puffed up with excitement as he nearly crow-hopped on the spot with the energy of it all. "He needs our help!" His face was split with a smile so big his eyes wrinkled at the edges. "Can you believe it, we get to help the gods."

@Virga and @Mathèo mentioned!

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather

Lena & Imogen

The Songbird was wary.
She didn’t want to be – she preferred sunshine to clouds, she honored virtue above apprehension and immorality, she loved watching the dawn rise over dusk, a sprinkle of hope and buoyancy, crisp, wonderful ebullience to cover over the cloaks and daggers of yesteryear. But she’d seen what Gods could do; theirs and those of other worlds, coming to blows, severing dreams, wreaking havoc instead of prosperity. She could remember every moment of battling against monsters and heathens, of chasing after wounded comrades, of watching her own beloved brethren fall apart, splintered and segmented, because of battles that should never have occurred (and even then – it felt the same, raw and real, tangible and grating, grinding down over her senses because she’d been just as vehement and violent as the rest, trying desperately to save those she cherished). There’d been murders and mayhem, pounds of flesh taken for lands not truly theirs – all regarded for slips of sunshine and dunes, long, unwinding grasses with enigmas for stories and bones for myths. Her heart wanted to trust in the echoes of what the sea creature had to say, all those fantastic proclamations of a dead earth cleared and cleaned (the Spectral Marsh; once filled with something more than a pernicious name), but her mind balked, halted, ceased and buckled against all the patterns of the past.
So she watched, listened, stood along the shoal and bridge with Imogen, uncertain, unsure, of what to do or where to go. The young seemed eager, fervent, ready to help and assist, because they hadn’t lived amidst the seasons of chaos and upheaval, when friends were monsters, when strangers were destroyed, when they all came together, united only to celebrate destruction and terror. The others, those who’d grown beneath plots and marauders, between wars and stages, alongside players and minstrels, seemed just as concerned as her. Her brows furrowed, her lips smoothed out to a crisp line, and not a whisper of a smile, not a trace of a grin, conformed to her regal features. She didn’t give a note, a lyric, or a stanza woven by mellifluous harmonies; instead, she simply waited, basking in the flow of the wind, wondering which primrose path they’d be led down next.

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