the Rift

[OPEN] the night is young [MAIN FESTIVAL THREAD]

NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
General Gathering
With a few hours of light left to the day, the sun leans into the valley and drenches it in golden light.  The placid lake shines in the late afternoon, and, even from the Sentinels, it’s easy to see the various attractions which have been set up for guests around the shore.  Glowing mushrooms hang from makeshift lamp-posts along designated paths, and prepared, unlit fires wait to illuminate the night; encircling all of the lake and the main valley, disallowing for travel to the Secret Tent, the entire area is well lit, and welcoming.  Patrolling around the perimeter set by the lights and waiting fires are various strong and stern looking individuals, who seem keen to toss out anyone who acts up or causes any trouble, and the Lady, Lord, and other council members not busy with other tasks are meandering among the various individuals already gathered, saying hello.

All around, conversations are already blooming; you overhear whispers that the Time God might show up, too!

A musical sound comes from the left of the lake, where a large area has been cleared away, seemingly for dancing.  Alongside this area, a singing whale, a log-drumming cerndyr, and a violet hinted, black stallion seem to be generating a lovely musical number, and there is a large, flat rock with various foods native to the North strewn across its face not far off.  Behind the dance floor, a soft meadow rolls towards a tree-line, which seems to be as far as the guests will be allowed to venture this evening; still, it’s a suitable distance for couples to wander, and spend time in each other’s company.

Nearer to you at the entrance, a bay mare with a kind expression stands before many cushions comprised of cloth and furs; she promises those who ask that she has stories to tell, if enough come to listen.  Beyond her, to the western mountainside, the lit trail leads curious visitors to the Haruspex Cave, which is sealed to visitors by a stand.  Behind this stand, a somewhat sinister dark stallion with red eyes offers to read your fortune.

Groups already seem to be gathering at the various games, also; an old man offers all who seem fast enough to be contenders to run in a lake lap race, while one of the patrolling mares occasionally pulls off to advertise for a ring toss later in the evening.  A third and final hybrid mare with a feather collared cloak stands nearby a wolf made of pine branches, offering cloth “tails” to passerby, who might try their luck at pinning it in the proper location while blind-folded.

What will you do, at this great gathering of Helovians?  Join in on the fun and see!

[ Welcome to the Festival!  The games and other events will open via threads next week.  For now, meet up with friends and family, eat some food, or get jiggy with it. ;)  All guests are welcome to join the band to play instruments or sing songs, present epic poems, ect.!  New threads will open throughout the rest of the month, so keep checking in for more to do.

Feel free to open side threads to have more private interactions, so long as they take place in the setting described above; please just clearly label them as Festival threads, and please refrain from interacting with any stands that do not currently have an open thread.  ]

aurora basin
Third Annual Festival

image | coding

@God of the Spark

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
Ampere had initially been reluctant at the thought of attending the Basin's festival this year. It didn't entirely seem appropriate given the stirrings of Kaos, which seemed to be rising in frequency given the chatter around the realm. The same thought had wiggled inside of her when the Throat had it's own personal celebration at the end of Tallsun, but she'd been more comfortable attending because it was on her home turf, and she hadn't yet known all she now does about Kaos then - in fact some of it she learned mid-party, which had significantly pooped all over it.
She also wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the northerners still.

Kygo did his best to reason with her though, telling her this party would be a re-do for the Throat one, where he promised no bad Kaos things would happen (not that he had the authority to make such a promise). He insisted that the very threat of Kaos was why this party was so important. He also suggested, and this may have been what truly made up her mind, that this would be good way to get to know the icy herd and some of its realm. Ampere was a bit reluctant, wondering if it was all a ruse to get the herds to nearly vacate and make it easier to invade, but Kygo countered that they were opening up their herd for her to view and learn secrets if she were so inclined.

So eventually after some back and forth debate with the green parrot, the rather serious Ampere found herself arriving early to the Basin's festival. Kygo trilled with delight as she landed in the snowy clearing, and Ampere nodded and greeted those already present as she shuffled her way towards some of the appetizers and drink. She needed to let her hair down sometimes, but gods help her, she'd need some alcohol to get her there.

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

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
As much as Wessex hates to re-live an ass-kicking, she cannot deny the odd sort of magnetism that draws her to the blue and black pegasus, the Sultana of the Throat. It’s a different sort of draw than her attraction to Tiamat - that is all puppy love and infatuation. This is more; respect is the basis of it, and an acknowledgement that she, Wessex, has much to learn still about fighting. Alright, there’s a smidgen of hero worship in there, as she has not yet realized that she’s missing an older, battle-scarred female idol in her fairly simple life. This is her new Lagertha, though she does not realize it, and there is much that can go wrong. But if there is anyone that might help repair the North-South relationship, it is probably their Lady (who is oddly absent lately - it makes her worry), and then maybe some of the newbies, those who weren’t around when all the bad feelings began.

The Corporal is in her place as bouncer-cum-bodyguard, stern-looking and sprouting enough spikey bits to deter most anyone (hopefully) who might seek to cause trouble, when the first guest arrives. She is surprised to see it’s Ampere, who… after awhile does not seem to be having much fun. It’s still early and quiet, so Wessex excuses herself from her station for a moment and heads towards the pegasus. She grabs a basket of fermenting apples from one end of the food area while en-route, coming up behind the Sultana and asking with a mouth full of dried grass, “Looking for these?”

They had a lot, as someone (not Wessex) had the forethought to have the same feelings their visitor must be having. She knows alcohol is a great facilitator of both good and ill will, and it is with the former that places the collection on the ground in front of her, taking one for herself. She can’t have too many, of course, being ‘on-duty’ for the first part of the festival, but she’s a big girl (literally), and can probably hold her alcohol. “How’s it going, Ampere?” she asks casually, never one for titles, really. They’ve already sweated and bled on each other, and in Wessex’s logical mind, that creates the foundation for an intimacy of deep friendship. They just have to let it blossom.

I am Iron and I Forge Myself

-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Ingrid Posts: 42
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 4.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Equine :: 16.0 hh :: 2 (Frostfall) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE

Reference Credit

Ingrid still remembered the way to the Basin from the last time she'd been there. She entered through the mountain pass and gasped, stuck by the beauty of the lights and the fires... for all of five seconds. That's how long it took her to zero in on the food and drink. Well, actually just the booze. She made a beeline across the grass, ignoring the fabulous and glittery horses manning the stands in her pursuit of alcohol.

Helovia doesn't have a drinking age, right? More importantly, would I actually give a shit if it did?

No. Problem solved.

She grabbed enough to make most horses thoroughly drunk, but she was just getting started. She used to participate in binge drinking competitions at the pub a few blocks from the orphanage in New Rheven. Almost without fail she won free beer and money, money she then used to buy more beer. Thinking of it now made her homesick, almost as homesick as when she thought about her brother.

"I guess I need this more than I realized," she muttered, grabbing another container. That's when she heard a pair somewhere talking about how the Time God might make an appearance.

There's gonna be a god? Bite me. How could I get wasted in front of a god...

Like this, probably,
she thought, wolfing down some mushy, fermenting fruit.

Pippigrin Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Gladiator atk: 6.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 10hh :: Two HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Brandybuck :: Wolverine :: None Neverrmind
[Image: pipliontable_by_neverrmind-db8vac5.png]

"Greetings! I am Pippigrin of the Dragon's Throat!- oh... No, that make me sound fancy."

The chatterbox was en route to the Basin with high expectations for the Festival after the wonderful celebration in the Dragon's Throat not long before. His dilemma, though, was a less than desirable one, and with no one to help him the hobbit was in quite a trifle. How on earth was he meant to introduce himself if he was to make a great first impression? So far everyone just noticed his height and naught else.
"Oh! How about-" he cleared his throat, "SALUTATIONS! I am Pippigrin of the- Oh that's worse"

Brandybuck, who happily soared on the saddle-like patch of fluff between the hobbit's wings gave a grunt of disapproval. Just be yourself anyone would say, even Pippigrin would were he advising anyone else. Sense had fallen from his shoulders where nerves took it's place.

"Hello there! I'm Pippigrin of the mighty Dragon's Throat!"
He chortled into the clouds he soared upon, glimpses of the basin and it's wondrous peaks emerging under his feet. Still, it wasnt quite right, and as his altitude declined and the festival came into bright and clear view, a lump began to swell within his throat.

Landing just beyond the arch, Pippigrin had soon forgotten about his rehearsals and that whole kerfuffle - right now, he felt as though he was home. The lights, the paths, it all reminded him of the shire! (just a snowier, frostier version). He'd never seen anything like it in all of Helovia. So as the tears welled in his sweet eyes, Pippigrin landed by the sentinels and continued his merry stride upwards toward the attractions.

Already he could see Ampere was here, and he spotted Wessex too, but soon there was another lady who stood alone who stole his attention. The halfling trudged over the frost, seeking to stand before the white-faced mare and introduce himself.
"Hallo," He began, "I'm Pip".


@Ingrid for mentions!

Ingrid Posts: 42
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 4.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Equine :: 16.0 hh :: 2 (Frostfall) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE

Reference Credit

Ingrid was half way through a basket of liquor already, and she was currently slurping down another mouthful with a gleeful "fuck you" to her kidneys. She wasn't drunk yet, but it was safe to say she wasn't thinking too rationally at the moment.

She turned her attention back to the festival and found a tiny pegasus prancing towards her.  Woah, he's like the size of a zephyr. He'd be so inconspicuous, probably barely needs a running start to get off the ground... HE'S TOTALLY A SPY.

The pony walked up an introduced himself as Pip. "Hi Pip," she chortled. If that's even your real name,

I mean, if I were a spy, I'd give myself a more bad-ass name for undercover stuff than Pip, but hey, that's his deal.

"I'm Ingrid," she stuttered, clearly far more attentive than usual. He had an accent too. She didn't know exactly where it was from, but it was definitely a spy accent.

"So, who do you work for—I mean, what herd do you belong to?"


Beloved Posts: 121
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 8.5 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: Appears 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Orphan :: Ragdoll Cat :: None Bunnie
She arrives upon the Winter Realm’s celebration of frost and time with rest fueling her step, the fall of the sun behind the horizon luring her to mingle with those who have come to partake in the activities. Eyeing it all, illuminated with blue mushroom’s light or ruddy fire’s glow, the wicked one babbles with laughter all the way, occasionally touching her pink muzzle down to the eye emblazoned pendant she had been given, along with the Brat Child, the Mortal Fool, the Flaming Impotence. She wonders if, tonight, with so many gathered, her mission might begin, or Her God might walk the frosted realm of Time, to rain chaos and death upon the festival of his honoring.

Ah, what a splendid night that would be… she thinks to herself, with a wicked smile, and mirthful row of laughter.

She sees some she knows, of course, living here in this ice and stone world, and having met them on numerous occasions during her activities therein, however nocturnal or wicked by nature they might have been. With roving gaze she lingers longer upon the strangers, but it does not mean she does not look, too, at those she recalls, even if she hasn’t a true name for their face.

Most seem huddled about the refreshments, mortal comforts which, once, Beloved too had cleaved to as if she might be better for their weaknesses. Now, however, she is emboldened by years, her steps cadent and easy, and she stands proudly along the outskirts, near enough that Wessex, who had asked her assistance this evening for a small task (if only Beloved knew, she would be no where to be seen), could find her, if she chose, but also far enough to be out of the way. Those who found themselves in the malevolently giggling mare’s company this evening would surely have chosen such a fate for themselves, at least.

[ OOC: Standing alone to the southeast of the festival area near the lake and storytelling area. Mostly muttering to herself. Per usual. ]
die like God, on the cover of time
Image Credit
Tag Beloved, please!

Feel free to attack her with physical or magical violence at your own risk. ;D

Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare

In her mind she fantasize about gettin with me

The cream coated stallion had heard talk of the party the Aura Basin was holding. The pair had cleaned themselves up, putting Zafir's nimble claws to work. The blue dragon didn't mind,not if it ment her stallion was presentable. She cringed when Astarot allowed himself to get matted hair or mud smeared over his bone marked hide. Scarlet eyes survey her work giving a nod of approval before taking a dip in the oasis herself. She scrubbed her own pearly white claws until the shone in the sun light. Astarot smiled and watched the dragon preen herself to perfection. So what if he didn't take the time everyday to clean himself up right? It wasn't easy for him to brush out his long flowing creamy hair. In truth he would like to cut the his long flowing locks short. His tail that brushed the ground collecting twigs and other debris day in and day out, while his thick mane always got in his face or caught on trees.

The trip was easy since he was so used to roaming around looking for herbs. When Zafir was tired she rode on his back looking out for danger on their trip north. Dual eyes glanced up at the sentinels cautiously before heading into the Basin's heart. A curious smile slid over his features as he gazed around at the glowing mushrooms and other decorations. It was beautiful he would give it that. He looked over at the gathered horses looking for someone he knew. Tiamat was clear in his mind as he hoped to find her Zafir looked for the Ocean's Light as well; to his disappointment she was nowhere in sight.

His eyes settled on Ampere and Wessex for a moment before turning to Pip and a stranger. He sighed feeling sorry for the lady as the tiny stallion was, eccentric to say the least. His gaze then shifted to a lone white and black mare. Zafir hissed softly as she turned her attention to the creature. She didn't like the feeling the mare gave off. Shaking his thick locks the stallion strode towards the band curiously. He smiled and hummed along softly as Zafir took in the warm beat and trilled loudly along with the tune. She didn't often sing, but it was beautiful when she did. Astarot quieted and listened softly to his dragon's singing looking around the wondering if the Lady of the Basin would show up.
Words;; 440
OOC/Tags;; Stands by the band hoping someone will comejoin him xD
Girl I'm the king so that means I'm fly

[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_trans_tag_by_are_we_...a8y6wy.png]

Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
A Festival.

In the Basin.

Nervous couldn't begin to cover how the dragonmare felt. So many different scenarios were running through her head, so many potential possibilities, so many options, almost all of them disastrous in conclusion as she flew the last leagues into the northern realm.

She couldn't help it, the fear, the memories (imagined and real), the stories her mother told her of the Basin and their past actions. Amaris knew her mother was not innocent in the histories of Helovia, she knew that there was the chance the Edge had a similar post-traumatic-stress effect on some of those within the Basin, but she could not shake the images she had imagined up in her mind, the sensations of heightened emotions, nerves and anxiety running through her.

The dragonmare was on auto-pilot, she vaguely followed the Sultana of the Throat on a lazy descent into the lands, drinking them with her golden pools, taking in the dazzling colours and arrangements of tents and various festival activities with a discerning glance.

Amaris breathed, taking a quiet moment for herself. Social situations, particularly massive ones like this one promised to be, always stirred her nerves, added to the anxiety that was already plaguing her, she wasn't sure how long she would stay here.

But she was here. Goddess say to clear mind, Dramyrth offered softly, warmly, his figure landing warmly upon her scaled back. Yes, she did, Amaris concurred, embracing the logic, doing her best to wash away the emotions weighing her down, to view the situation with fresh, non-clouded eyes.

"Hello Ampere," she called gently to the dark pegasus, as she began her journey about. Everything looked so appealing - we must try everything, she informed her bonded, who merely sat in silence, casting his own judgements and making his own observations from his perch atop her withers and nape.

A smile and a nod were offered to Ingrid and Pippigrin in greeting, though she did not engage them in conversation, seeing others she knew as well (with some surprise, as she was always surprised to find she recognised others, having lived a solitary life for too long). "Wessex," she said in a simple, kind greeting, looking dubiously at the liquid the mare proffered Ampere, electing not to try it just yet (Ingrid's apparent immediate lack of inhibition was rather a deterrent).

She continued on her wandering, eventually spying Astarot and his little blue companion. They were standing by the small gathering of beings who were generating a pleasant tune, and Amaris approached him with a happy bounce in her step. "Astarot!" she called, laughing as she heard Zafir contribute her voice to the tunes, wondering if Dramyrth would feel deigned to do similar - ( Nope, came the confirmation ). The golden dragonking continue to simply sit atop his golden throne, his bonded, and view the surroundings without giving much away as to his inner thoughts, even to Amaris directly.

"How nice to see you here," she said to the skull-marked dunskin. It was one thing to be able to fly from the Edge, completely another to make the journey on foot from as far away as the Throat. "I hope you are well?"

Uhhh @Everyone for mentions...
@Astarot for speaking to directly xD
Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow

Stern-faced, stoic, occasionally uptight - all words used to describe Volterra. Fun-loving, relaxed, easygoing - words not used to describe Volterra, yet words he will need to embody if he is to fit in at this gathering. He might have developed quite the taste for fermented apples recently, but during this mixing of the herds he knows better than to indulge. The last thing the denizens of Helovia need is to be regaled with drunken stories of the time the great Sultan of the Dragon's Throat emptied the contents of his balls upon the rump of the Time God's daughter, or the time he struck up a one-sided conversation with a tree whilst under the influence. No, it's best that the other herds continue to see only Volterra the Indomitable, fierce warlord, fearless leader, not drunken oversharer.

Sadly, it's a lot harder to refrain from delving into the apples once he arrives at the gathering. His dragons are absent, unwilling to sully themselves with such trivial events, and indeed the onyx behemoth finds it hard to justify engaging in such frivolity when Kaos still needs to be studied, found, and stopped. That's not to say that the beast hasn't made an effort, however. His ebony coat has been painstakingly washed in a stream on the way here to rid himself of travel-stains and muck, and the white feathers on his forelegs glow like polished ivory in the absence of the usual mire and dirt that cakes them. His muscles gleam and ripple beneath the smooth, clean fur, and without any armour or face-masks, he looks entirely natural.

After all, he never knows who he might meet. There could be eligible bachelorettes at this party for him to charm, ideally Basin ones for him to lure to the Throat with the promise of fame, glory and mind-blowing sex just to piss Rikyn off.

The party is already in full flow by the time the Indomitable arrives. In this strange, snowy land, Volterra is not as comfortable as he usually is; his stride somewhat lacks its normal arrogance, his body held just that bit less dominantly. He pulls up beside sweet familiarity in the form of Ampere, and flashes her his most winning grin. "Made a beeline for the drink, I see? You're a woman after my own heart, Sultana." He offers a wink, his vow not to drink suddenly fading away in the presence of all this lovely alcohol. One couldn't hurt, could it?


image: naia-art

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie


Conspicuously clean as Volterra is, I’m probably more so; he had dragons, ones that didn’t care for neatness, if the squirrel incident is to be any evidence. Duir, however, is perhaps the most studiously put together being in the Basin, and had very much insisted that I douse myself with a good amount of water, and had forcibly drug a peculiarly comb-like stick through my tail hair. He’d even tried to disentangle my faintly golden mirror and chain from where its come to be one with my mane, to little avail, and had grumpily moved on to neatly arrange my forelock, instead. The result?

My gold patches are gleaming, and the fact that I am both distinctly brown and black, swirling, ebbing, kissing with shadow and cocoa, is more evident than not. My shoulder plate, normally filthy as I am, is burnished and gleams, the harness carefully washed in the lake by Duir while I’d buffed my hooves (also at his insistence), and each bit of jewelry or adornment I otherwise wear has been tended to, also. Eyeing myself in the sunset illuminated surface of the lake while the others meander in, and my equally scrubbed and orderly buck drumming in the distance, I can’t help but give the little deer credit for the idea. I look good, down-right Kingly.

Lifting my head with a sigh as the number of voices begins to grow, and my presence becomes required, I move through the crowd. Ampere, Ingrid, and Wessex are already hitting the booze, which makes my lips quirk up – Wessex, in particular, could use it. Not far from Wessex and Ampere is Volterra, who appears to be joining their group, but I pass Ingrid and Pip, first, and give them a happy smile of greeting.

"Don’t let him talk your ear off," I smile in passing, recalling that one of the primary character traits of the likeable pony had been chattiness. Not lingering to chat, however, I move towards the dance floor, where the majority of individuals are standing, including Amaris.

Stopping to stare at her (probably not very suavely), I lay eyes, for the first time, on one of the legendary dragon mares of my youth. I’d certainly herd stories of the mutated dragon-horses there in the mist, but had never seen one, and as I looked upon the image of a rather pretty woman, not a serpentine monster with wings and flames spewing from her lips, I find I’m, once again, let down by my mother’s tales. What in actuality was Mirage, if this smiling, cheerful face is a monster of old? Probably just an old, swag-backed, toothless nag with a stick.

Regardless, I pull my eyes away, looking from her to the rest, and their gathering groups. All but Beloved it seems stand with companionship, which I figure is fair; that woman seems to have enough company in her head, without help. So, with a contented sigh, I remain where I am, happy to watch the evening, so far, unfold without a hitch.

[ OOC: Rikyn probably makes eye contact with you and nods hello! Otherwise, he stares at Amaris a bit before standing by himself at the far edges of the dance-floor gathering to watch the people talk. :D ]

call me a safe bet
I'm betting I'm not

Art by VeerDesigns@DA | Table by Me

@Sikeax meybeh?? if not anyoneeeee

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Glacia Posts: 111
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 4.0 | def: 8.0 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Name :: Snowy Owl :: None Nessie

It had been several years since I had attended one of these functions, and I found it ironic that here I was, four years later bringing a daughter of my own. My mother was no where to be seen. It was surprising, really, that the night clad warrior had dissapeared so quickly, and I always hoped that maybe she would turn up someday. She was my mother after all, Despite her short comings and intensity. But here I was. Once more part of the Aurora Basin. Happiness seemed to glow around me. I was happy.

For the first time in some time I was actually happy. Things still nagged at me of course, wondering where my son was, but overall, I was enjoying myself more than I had in the last two years.

Looking about me however, I saw that I didn't actually know anyone. No one but Rikyn and Gwyn. Not yet. There was a gorgeous mare, she looked to be part dragon, and some familiar faces from other gatherings, the small mare with lightning markings, and the behemoth that I think was named Volterra. My gaze lingered on him for a moment, appreciating his sheer size. He was a looker. But my attention was very easily caught when I looked at Rikyn. He looked the part of Lord. My eyes widen slightly, and my brows raised. Hot damn. In fact, I had forgotten to keep a eye on Gwyn I was looking so much. After looking around rather frantically for a moment I caught sight of her, and decided to let her roam. I kept tabs on her however. While I continuously glanced at the child, I made my way towards her father, giving him a rather pretty smile as I sidled next to him.

"Rikyn... You look very dashing this evening. Did Duir make you do it?" My eyes drift to Gwyn, and while I have one ear turned to Rikyn, a good bit of my attention is on her. I think I am already being a better mother to her.
"talk talk talk talk "

@Gwyn (I figure since in the storytelling thread she was kinda just wandering then Glacia could have said hello to Rikyn before following her to the storytelling.) <3
@Volterra (If he wants to say hello :D)

but the queen has been overthrown

full image

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie


It was peculiar, how easy it was to fall in love with Gwyn, and how much easier there after it had been to look at Glacia as more than just a girl I’d grown up with, and looked at when I thought she wouldn’t notice. Though the thought of the responsibility to come still terrified me, and was a train of thought I actively avoided, my heart was slowly softening towards the white flecked, onyx mare that had brought the most beautiful girl in all of Loorien into the world.

Just when I begin to wonder where my pretty, blue eyed ladies are, they appear on the other side of the vale, from the bordering pine forest, which leads to my cave. Lifting my head at the sight of them and smiling happily, especially at Gwyn’s enthusiastic expression as she hurries towards the dance floor and refreshments, I turn my focus towards Glacia as our daughter moves next to where Lena is preparing to tell stories, a blackberry sprig clutched in her dark lips.

Remembering how easy it is in youth to be lured away by the promise of fun and companionship, I forgive her immediately for not stopping to say hello to me, and instead contentedly sigh, and move my head to run my lips on Glacia’s shoulder in greeting, as she settles in alongside me. Nodding at as she inquires as to whether or not I’d been forced to actually be clean for once, I return her smile.

"Thanks. He insisted it was fine for an outcast to look like a common vagabond, but not a Lord," I chuckle, and awkwardly include a complement in turn (I suck at this), "less kindly, of course. You and Gwyn look beautiful, yourselves."

Too distracted with his music, Duir, for once, doesn’t rebuke my truthful insult, because he doesn’t notice it.

"Has she been good?" I ask after my inquisitive daughter, assuming she had been, but feeling obligated to include what I say next, mostly, "I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with this festival stuff. At least we’ll have some time together tonight, I hope."

call me a safe bet
I'm betting I'm not

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
She shouldn’t. She barely feels it in herself to go, but Seoul expresses such an interest in it that she can’t deny letting the child have an idea of what herd life is like.
It’s not like she intends to return to that any time soon, regardless of the longing that her heart struggles through. Hobgoblin knows, and beaten down and worn by the path they’ve been carried down, more like dragged down, contained by their ankles with Hobgoblin having only enough fight for himself and Sikeax having nothing left to give but loyalty and simple hope, he can’t bring himself to beat her up for it, because have they not had enough of it already? They do though, manage to look presentable.
Some tired hour has been spent bathing Hobgoblin, who sits through in an oddly quiet fashion, barely moving as her tongue pulls portions of him either which way as she goes. What happened the last time they hung out in a herdland, an actual herdland, not the ruins of some abandoned place by a God who couldn’t uphold his followers, hasn’t left his head.
“Best not. Sia still not good. Sia still weak.”
“How am I still weak?” Her voice is eerily soft, laxed despite the clashing portions of anxiety brewing in their concoction of emotions. Seoul worries about what the festival will be like, not having any ideas of what to base off of it other than Sikeax’s offered memories dating back to the Sun festival in the Dragon’s Throat, Hobgoblin simply worrying for the collection of people and digging into Sikeax’s remainders of fear as his thoughts linger on her rejection, his use of her, and Sikeax? Sikeax fears everything but coaxes it into submission, putting her glowing flower crown on once Hobgoblin struggles through the process of assisting her in grooming and Seoul braiding her tail once more and pushes on, trying to be strong.
And by Gods if she looks it, barely smelling of sea salt, having laid in the pool in the Grove for so long that the water drank her signature smell, the paired glows of her horn and the flowers she always manages to make use of in these sort of events illuminating her facial features, worn down and tired with a dull, sunken look to her blues. Her coat is the cleanest it’s been in some time, which isn’t much seeing as Sikeax is typical to bi-daily, if not daily, bathing. Her tail is strung up with locks of hair coming down from beneath, pulling the whole of it together in small sections to meet in the middle, making a braid down the center. Seoul is particularly proud of that, being her work.
For Hobgoblin and Seoul, the pair match up with their bonded, Hobgoblin’s dark coat sleek and lacking any sort of blood in it from his hunts, similar collar of glowing flowers worn around his neck. As for the dragon, her personal upkeep is rather well for her age, cleanliness one of her top things, choosing to keep with her brother’s look with the flower collar.
Walking into the Aurora Basin, done up with little pride to carry with other than Seoul’s nervous yet excited attitude, Sikeax just likes to imagine that they at least come off as happy to be there, flashing a quiet, slim smile.
“We’re here.” Monotone and soft, spoken just loud enough that only Hobgoblin and Seoul will hear as she guides them down the main path.
Excitement bubbles up on cue as Seoul raises up on her hind legs, shoulders rising up as her wings ruffle their feathers, blue eyes looking for anything interesting. At the first sight of Amaris, the child simply ignites into awe, having never once thought that there could be a combination of dragon and horse. Loud, repetitive chattering follows suit, as well as some quick, blurred flashes of the mare in their heads just so they’ll know what all the excitement is about.
A slight scowl runs across her features at his thought only to quickly fade behind the fear of coming off wrong, the dragon luckily still too young to partake in the quiet brutality of their minds. Please don’t be rude, but Hobgoblin doesn’t make promises.
Surveying brings her to the most uncomfortable of positions, beginning to notice that everyone, or at least everyone she knows and cares some about, say Volterra, Rikyn, Astarot somewhat, as the colt is the obvious half-brother to her son, has paired off with others and quickly gone off into conversation. She could stop and think for a second as of what to do, but her anxiety(or is it Hobgoblin?) lets her know that’ll only make it worse, that people will know she has no one to spend time with.
Panic sinks in for a second. There are stands, but didn’t she come here to make some sort of attempt at socialization?
It’s cold. There’s snow on the ground.

Hobgoblin tempts her with the change of skin. Don’t. Groans ring in the back of her head but she’s powerless to stop him. Seoul’s general feeling of excitement still hangs in the air.

An image of a long stone adorned with all manners of food comes in, tainted with a slight touch of disappointment as Hobgoblin notes there is nothing meat-wise.
“You’ll live.” She leans down to tell him with some reassurance, noting that they could always look for something to eat in the Basin by hunting.
Picking what to eat is the only true difficult part, feeling uncomfortable as the short seconds tick by, thinking. Thankfully, Seoul is the one to make that decision, quickly expressing more than enough interest on the apples.
So, with a shrug of her shoulders, Sikeax wastes no more time in taking one, not paying attention to her companion as the dragon assures that she has one as well, clutching it in her small grasp as the weight of it makes flying a tad bit more difficult.
Let’s go ahead and get this over with, spoken to Hobgoblin under the assurance of secrecy as she heads off in the direction of the dance floor, the bitter, off-taste of that one apple burning her tongue and the back of her throat.

OOC: Hobgoblin is in his serval form, and for an idea of what Seoul looks like, ref idea


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
Let it go, just let it be, you be you, and I'll be me
Iskra bounced excitedly behind his mother as she announced they were going to the Basin festival. The Throat party had been so much fun that he couldn't wait for another one, and how exciting it'd be in a whole different herd! He'd never been to the Basin before - he wondered if their party would be similar. Would their horses be similar too? What if the colts and fillies played games he'd never heard of before?

They'll teach me, he thought with positive conviction as he raced off to bathe in the Oasis as his mom instructed. After hsi bath Iskra ran all around to tell all his Throat friends, hoping some of them would come too, but he was going to go one way or another!

As Ampere beckoned for departure he flew in her wake, but got distracted several times along the way and so arrived a bit behind her. As he landed, a bit choppy still, he saw her mingling by the food and drink -typical. Iskra's gaze cast around, looking for any foals his age, but not finding many among the crowd. He gave a shrug and headed off to the dance floor to show off his sweet moves.
Holding onto something we don't need
All this delusion in our heads
Is gonna bring us to our knees
image | code

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

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
A familiar voice tugs on Ampere's attention and slowly her head turns to behold Wessex. The flicker of familiarity crosses her features, and even a sense of relief - this is one Northerner she knows she likes. A smile warms up her features, and then a laugh as her gaze travels from the many-horned mare to what she had to offer. "Did I appear that stiff or are you just a good host?" Ampere asked with a broad grin.

"Although, I've got something that makes these much more effective." Her magic tugged at the small metal device tucked by her wing joints and mane, nestled in alongside her knife sheath and collapsed shield. It was a small tap, and it gleamed innocently as Ampere's abilities guided it towards an apple, where it firmly inserted itself. Liquid began to dribble out of the spout and Ampere reached down to hoist the apple up and drink.

"It's all about the concentration...we're a bit known for our drinks in the Throat," Ampere attempted to explain as she set the dried apple down, her tap already making its way towards a new fruit. "Especially me."

Some amber liquid dripped from her chin as she set her attention back on Wessex. "It goes, which is always good. Another day to fight, I just wish we knew more about what we were facing."

As some familiar faces drift by and greet her she returns their names and nods with a smile. Volterra is one that lingers however, and she gives a raucous laugh to his remark. "Careful Indomitable, we've already got enough in common, you can't claim to be as much a fan of drinking as I or I'm afraid I'll have to beat you in a competition."

@Wessex @Volterra

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

Glacia Posts: 111
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 4.0 | def: 8.0 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Name :: Snowy Owl :: None Nessie

Rikyn seems to welcome my presence, soft lips of his touching my shoulder once I was next to him. He accepts my compliment, and reply's (answering that I was indeed correct about Duir). His words cause me to laugh, for a moment, before I smiled shyly and actually turned my head to look at him. "Thank you Rikyn." I reply, and just as I turn my head to look to Gwyn he asks if she had been good. My head stops and returns to look at him. "Gwyn has been a doll. She's ambitious, and adventurous, but nothing unlike ourselves in that manner." I reach over, and nuzzle him gently with my muzzle a soft laugh coming from my mouth as I do so. "Don't worry about it. You are doing well, juggling a f- a child and your duties to your herd." I catch myself, unsure of the word family. Was I that? Gwyn was. She was. But I stuck to child instead. It was safe. Casually I reach over to take a fermented apple in my lips and then eating it. "I suppose that would be somewhat nice. Lets start with seeing what story Lena will tell. Maybe I'll have other surprises in store later, if you have the time. " Flirtatiously I wink, and move off towards the storytelling, eager to hear the birdsong's tales.

"talk talk talk talk "



but the queen has been overthrown

full image

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless

The God still has no idea if they are doing this for him, or for themselves. He really hopes it's the latter. Really fucking hopes it. And, after years of having not showed up to these things, he thought maybe they'd gotten the idea and were just ... doing this festival for their own enjoyment. But he'd felt Rikyn reaching out to him with that insufferable pleading way the loyal idiot had, and the God figured he was probably wrong.

They wanted him there. Maybe even needed him there. But why? Did he seem like the type interesting in parties? Did he in anyway give off a 'throw me a festival every year' vibe?

Mortals, he thought to himself, sighing wearily.

The sky suddenly flashed with sheet lightning, and then darkened ominously. The light that had previously coloured the Basin faded away as if midnight had come early. An eery quiet fell over everything and the seconds that ticked by seemed to be taking their sweet time.

And then.



A brilliant display of fireworks suddenly bloomed in the sky. Dragons made of electricity chased their tails and gobbled up starlight as phantasmic creatures danced among and between those scattered below. Deer ran by, chased by ghostly wolves with snapping teeth, while stars of light hung in the air like lanterns. Small flowers of light bloomed through the grasses as more ordinary (but coloured) fireworks continued to speckle the sky.

As all of this happened, the God appeared silently behind Rikyn. "Quite the party, kid." He grumbled, but his voice was good-natured sounding and his brow wasn't quite as furrowed as it normally was.

god of the spark

Lyanna the Windswept Posts: 313
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
She is entirely late to the start of the Basin’s festival. For once, she has no good excuse. Herd business didn’t keep her tied up (though Gods know there is plenty of business), she wasn’t in the Threshold. No, this time, she’d simply lost track of time. It was so rare a pleasure to get time to herself that she’d gotten lost in her own wanderings and thoughts until finally she’d remembered she had someone to be. So, she is late. Thankfully she has wings, and the journey is far shorter because of them. She lands outside the Basin as she had the last time, making her way on foot through the mountain pass and past the sentinels as she has done a few times now.

The first time she’d been here it had been for the festival as well. She’d been new to Helovia, and had known no one, though the festival had been fun and a good way to meet a few new faces. She’s been back since then to visit the healers and her friend, and now, here she is again. The Basiner’s were going to get really sick of seeing her face probably. Then again, she felt that way about the Throat lately. She’d spent two years without ever visiting to all of sudden find herself going twice in less than a season.

Today, at least, she has a good reason to be here. Being late, she’s far from the first to arrive, though she’s in time to catch the lightshow. Not the usual lightshow of the Basin’s northern lights, but the electric show that only a God could give. First, the world is dark and quiet and time moves too slowly, but then the world flashes to life with deer’s and wolves and dragons all made of electricity. Flowers of light bloom around them, and the sky continues to be filled with fireworks (these more like the ones Rexanna could make).  

She assumes, though does not see, that the God of the Spark has arrived. Lyanna is still too far away, and in truth, she has no place hunting for the God anyway. Instead, a pair of familiar horses catches her attention, and she makes her way over to them. She does keep an eye out until she finally spots Rikyn and who she thinks must be the God standing behind him, though she doesn’t know for sure. She’s never see the Spark or the Sun before.

“Astarot, Amaris,” she says to the two horses, offering them a smile and a nod. Her eyes drift away from the God and to them now. “That was quite something,” she adds, nodding toward the lights that still dot the ground in pretty flower form. She can’t imagine the Moon doing anything so similar, though that’s not entirely true. She could imagine the Moon doing nearly anything for Tembovu, but for Lyanna? There’s the truth of it. Lyanna’s only even spoken to the Moon directly once – she has no such rapport with her deity.


art by yewrezz

@Astarot @Amaris

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by Kiki

Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
More arrived, more locals to the lands, more who were not. They all came, they mingled, and some did stare at her. A stallion, darkness trimmed with gold, handsome in his own way, seemed particularly caught upon her, and she merely offered a glance with a raised eyebrow back at him, not shy but neither was she overly defiant or challenging. It was merely a statement, an offering of an opening, should he wish to do more than stare at her at this event.

The dragonmare also noted the arrival of Volterra, and offered a smile should he look her way, but otherwise lingered where she was, comfortably mostly out of the way and 'horse-watching'. Dramyrth notes the arrival of more dragon companions via mental nudges, but otherwise is silent in his observation from his perch atop her scaled withers.

Then the sky came alive, lightning splitting it with sudden blinding arcs and crackles. As darkness fell, Amaris' heart lurched, for darkness only fell like that when her mother was nearby - but no, this was not the DragonHeart, this was..

The God of Time, she and her companion thought simultaneously, as they watched the lightning figures chasing each other across the night sky, the story they wove, silently cheering for the dragons that appeared and knowing that only a God could possess such power.

Another had arrived to the party, and Amaris vaguely recognised the God himself from a time many years ago, when all of the Gods had exited the realm to venture elsewhere, before the wraiths came to this realm and destroyed everything. He was static-y in appearance, and she vaguely thought she could see a family resemblance between he and the Spark Light - but she did not dwell on all of that, simply wishing to immerse herself in the party.

Lyanna appeared by her side soon after, and the dragonmare offered a matching nod for her queen, and a smile that exuded nothing but warmth and welcome. Should the dark mare sidle close enough, she would even be offered a gentle touch of Amaris' maw in greeting, though the dragonmare would not be offended should the queen deny its brief caress.

"Indeed," Amaris agreed softly, looking at the resulting array of lights that were blooming all around them. She wondered, if the Edge were to throw a similar 'festival', would the Moon Goddess grant her presence? Would she flaunt her powers to the masses?

Or would she smite them all, taking advantage of them all being in one place?

"The Basin sure know how to throw a party." Idle comments, something to fill the dying ebbs of conversation, soft murmurings that meant nothing except a way of deflecting the inevitable awkwardness (but inevitably made it more awkward), were summoned, here and there, as the dragonmare continued her mostly silent observations of the gathering.

@Lyanna for speaking to directly ^^
Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

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