the Rift

[OPEN] Autumn Leaves

Otem Posts: 19
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Tribrid :: 17.2 ::
Pandora :: Melanistic Barn Owl :: None Odd
another mind, another soul, another body to grow old.
it's not complicated.

Ahhh short because I don't know how to start threads. Whoever you want! @Zuno

Still young, life presented new challenges and opportunities to the small tribrid girl almost every moment of every day. Life was still new and exciting, and as Otem ventured out—either without or without her twin—she always found things to catch her attention.

Today, it was the aisles. 

The girl couldn't fly yet, but that didn't stop her from standing on one of the banks, wings spread to embrace the salty breeze, imaging what it would be like to glide across the water. Otem supposed it wasn't that bad to wait. If nothing else, Pandora, the small owlet tangled in her mane, couldn't fly yet either. Although Otem was more than happy to carry the owl around, should she fall out while they were flying, she'd almost certainly drown by the time Otem could circle around to find her.

"I guess we just wait for now."  She murmured, receiving a small hoot of agreement from Pandora.

art by Chloe!

Zhu Posts: 23
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16'3 :: 3yrs HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE

He doesn't like the sea, or the sand, but then again, Zhu doesn't particularly like anything. It must have been for humor that he was born to a mare so heavily in tune with the desert, especially with his rage towards sand.
Going inland is what his mind is set on. Hiding the right place to merge into the growth is the difficult part. There's been nearly hours of him walking up and down the treeline looking for the right spot, making small steps in the direction of any opening only notice that it won't fit his size.
It all ends in a snort, a shake of the head and a stomp of a hoof, rage brewing in him as the steps spent moving backwards, away from the growth, rise in count.
He's honestly about to say fuck this, and turn back, brave the cooling sea water and try and break his way back into the Throat in hopes that his mother will be the one who finds him at his arrival. It's not like he'll care that he invaded their home. As far as his eyes can see, the Throat belongs to him almost as much as he belongs to it, and that isn't very much.
That at least leaves him some rights, though.
He's looking for the right place to go from when he finds the child, standing out against the paleness of the sand like a dark smudge, a pile of shit left behind for someone, like himself, to have to look at. He nearly does take it as an overgrown pile of dung for a while there, catching only her dingy smudge-like appearance from afar, before the need to know comes across him so strong that his tongue clicks! against the roof of his mouth and brings back the rough outline of a small, very, very small, winged child, standing alone on the shoreline.
No emotion stirs at the fact that she's alone. Zhu is not one to typically care for anyone, and not even a child will win the better of him.
"Hülye, hogy egyedül marad a tengerparton." Whether or not she understands him is her problem. Common Loorien has long since struggled to rest easy on his tongue, and at the temptation to try it out, he feels himself shun it into the darkness.
If anything, the presence of a nuisance language that she can't understand might run her off, and he can take her place on the beach. The thought cocks a rough smirk on the side of his face that's his own inside joke. What makes it so pleasurable is that he doesn't intend to hold it very long if he does manage to run her off, and if anything, will use it as a place for him to swim off into the ocean, towards that mark on the horizon that is undoubtedly the Dragon's Throat. He hasn't forgotten.
"A mélységben szörnyek fognak enni." A chuckle rolls off his lips, adding to the fact that it is a tease on her behalf. Are children scared of the monsters in the sea? Had he? Hobgoblin had always come off as one, the way his mother seemed to fear him back then but still kept him closer than she kept her own children.  

OOC: sobbing because this is kinda crappy but he'll warm up. First posts seem to be the issue with him.

Hülye, hogy egyedül marad a tengerparton. It is stupid to be alone on the beach.
A mélységben szörnyek fognak enni. Monsters from the depths might come to eat you.


Valdís Posts: 24
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 1 year
tie a rope around your neck,
and let me kick you off a bungee
I don't think spending less time in the Throat will help the degrading state of my mind, that by somehow running away from the problems they'll just go away. I know that's what my mother had tried, but she never got very far at all, because her problems are always there (im gespräch mit ihr). I heard her, listened to her torment as they tore her apart from the inside out, broke her down until my mother simply wept against the earth and moaned to be left alone, begging for Death. She begged the same way I do, but she did it so outwardly, showed her weaknesses so casually, allowed herself to be vulnerable and scared and show it. Yes, I was terrified, a paranoid bubble of child, always waiting for something to go grossly wrong and be blamed for it.

It never happened, not to my face - but what did they say behind my back, when I paid them no mind or looked the other way? What cruel things do they say in hushed tones, mocking me for the way I am, for the way I look (hässlich) or the mouth I have (dreckig). The thought of them conspiring against me when I had my back turned made me all the more anxious, always on edge about seeing them, seeing the hate and disgust in their hollow eyes (was it really there?). But there are shreds of doubt, moments where I believe that maybe I'm taking it too far, seeing too into it, thinking they are accusing me of things they have never even considered.

But those doubts are thrown aside when I see the large body moving towards the familiar petite shape of a new schädel gesicht, as Zeki and Kye and so fondly described my family, full of macabre features over black bodies. "Ja, ihre definierende eigenschaft sind die schädel," the two had told me once, having recalled something of meeting a few during their moments in the Throat - back when my mother was still a member. I had asked them if I had a skull like my brothers and sisters, and I saw the shaking of a brilliantly bright head, "du bist anders, kleiner entlein." I felt my stomach sink, and suddenly I was giving up (hässliches entlein), crumbling to the ground and gasping at the hooves of the brothers, judging gaze laid on my crumbling body, burrowing into my skin as I sobbed (as close to I can get to it). I would get used to the feeling of being crushed like this, of becoming a family disappointment, of being the hässliches entlein.

I stare at the pair, approaching quietly, hesitant as I pick up words from the large stallion, stiffening when his guttural voice breaks the silence, snaking through the air and taunting me. I furrow my brows, quickening my pace, no longer hesitant but desperate to defend my sister with the tiny, almost indistinguishable chick buried in her tufts of mane. I hadn't interacted much with her, but I knew that she was a daughter of Volterra, rushing forward to ward off the bulky prick that loomed over us both. I would not stand for it, despite my dispositions against my family, I felt that I should at least ward off the evil demon of an equine before he did something he regretted. I was not a threat to him, not the way I was now (powerless, useless, a waste), but I could at least try.

"Hé!" I'm shouting, ears flat as I address the stranger, teeth grinding together as I reach the two. I don't even acknowledge the fact that I'm speaking Apa's tongue, that I'm reverting to his roots rather than speaking the native tongue. I don't think I even register that he spoke to Otem in this tongue either, that he warned her, that he even spoke the language at all. I think I'm too furious (again) to piece together the puzzle, too angry, letting the details of his body (bulky, heavy, Volterra) slip from my mind and his knowledge of our tongue run between my fingers. It is just my rage, my brewing blood at his existence. His appearance has my blood boiling, bubbling beneath the surface of gnarled dark skin, mangled wings twitching and scarred features upturned to the warm red of the stallion. "Nézd meg, ki az, a faszfej. Fedjük le a füled, Otem." I would not let this man get away with scaring children, crushing them and so casually discarding of guilt, refusing to accept that he was acting cruelly. "Lelép, hülye picsa, ha tudod mi a legjobb." I spit the words at his hooves - almost literally - sneering at him even though I was petite beside him, shoving my nose up and puffing my chest out, trying to prove that I was intimidating, that I was a threat.

schädel gesicht - skull face, aka vol offspring C':
Nézd meg, ki az - look who it is (the fuckface)
Fedjük le a füled - cover your ears
Lelép - step off (or step down)
ha tudod mi a legjobb - if you know what's best
shes gotta cuss zhu out a lil more, sorry baby otem

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