"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Now that it seems to be getting warmer and spring is in the air, Gaza feels like it’s time for a trip to the Tundra. He knows Kreios, and finds him to be a very likable fellow, but they were more like friends, and Gaza wanted a brother. He wanted Akbar. Akbar however, was nowhere to be found. And in a kingdom full of women… masculine influence can be hard to come by.
So basically, Gaza is starved for male companionship. Where is the logical place to go? The Tundra. The complete opposite of the Desert. Full of men. And his half brother. And another stallion who has a slight connection to him, of only through the life force of a magician he never knew.
Gaza isn’t goingn to stay, of course. Not right. Maybe later. He hasn’t decided where he wants to live yet - could be the Desert, could be the Dale, could be the Tundra… some places were very much out of the question, so it came down to those three kingdoms. The black stallion (it’s so weird to say stallion and not colt) departs the Desert in the cool of the morning, getting an early start while the sands do not burn with a fiery heat. He travels north, the only direction he has been given. It is a long way, and takes more than a day for the inexperienced stallion to travel. If only he had wings like Zilpah or Yael… then he might be able to get there more quickly.
The second day dawns bright and crisp, and though the air is colder than he’s ever felt before, he presses on. He is large, and when he is moving, it is enough to keep him warm. Here, the hoarfrost still lingers on the ground, and his heavy hooves thud against solid ground with every clipped beat of his easy trot. His breath begins to come in steam now, and he knows he must be close. So Gaza stops, slightly outside the border, and lets out a call for someone - anyone. He did not know exactly what Kratos looked like, but knew he would know him by his stature and his lighting. It wasn’t only his half-brother he was seeking - but a place to belong.
Somewhere. Anywhere. Anything to sway theh ex-princeling’s mind.
06-07-2015, 04:40 AM (This post was last modified: 06-07-2015, 04:41 AM by Aneku.)
The frosty ground was crisp underfoot, leaving the harsh crack and hiss burning into the fire one's ears. It had taken days for him for walk the Tundra, days for him to watch, to listen. Aneku was very much a surveyor of sorts. He listened, he watched. Cold, black eyes an endless oblivion that took hold of each and every thing. A sparse little bit of tree that he took to munching on aimlessly. The twigs rough against his tongue, gave him little sustenance but gave him the need to chew. For a sharp instant he had flashes of his past. The twigs were tough, rough against his tongue, sharp against his tender mouth. It reminded him very little of the flesh of life, but also reminded him immensely of the need to chew, but no need for hunger.
His hunger was a different sort.
The chestnut steed was ambling, but popping here, popping up there. Teleportation gave a little snap to walking the Tundra. He'd see an incline, a sheet of ice, he saw a bush with tasty looking berries, his dark mind may not have registered, but he popped up there, like a flame he dazzled in the white backdrop, but like a shadow he lurked, silent, unmoving. A watchful golem, keeping an eye on the boundaries of a land he knew very little about, but he joined.
He was still in minds what to do; he'd popped up at the meeting, listened and spoke little, but he was growing to enjoy the cold touch of the eternal winterland. Perhaps he would join, become a brother properly. Perhaps not. he too was in many minds, all he knew wha he wanted, was to gather knowledge. knowledge was power and could vanquish many things.
Aneku was planning on vanquishing something in his lifetime, what that was, he didn't know, yet. but for now, he would vanquish the need to accompany a stranger, a stranger that looked as out of place in this wintry wonderland as he, and who looked as though a torn mind was a new fashion accessory to wear. The chestnut popped in front of him, a cloud of fire and flame, a dark shadow burning underneath his eyes. He studied the young man, with a curious gaze, a long, deliberating scrutiny, sort of like a predator eyeing up whether or not they were hungry, or whether or not they just wanted the thrill of the hunt. For now it was neither.
"You look out of place." his words were a baritone, low, deep. his dark eyes remained ever watchful on the dark coloured stallion infront of him. Dead eyes may look out of a dark, eternally damned soul, but there was a small cinder burning from dying embers within. Soon. Soon he would find out the things he was after, but for now he would bide the eternal thing that everyone was trying to escape. to conquer. Time.
"Lost?" the demon breathed a fiery breath, and let the first slighter of emotion touch his vacant facade, a smirk.
carnage x jinca • teleportation • death god of The Tundra
06-10-2015, 11:48 AM (This post was last modified: 06-10-2015, 11:52 AM by Kratos.)
The Tundra’s wind had a way of cutting through those not accustomed to it like cool steel through warm flesh, it ate through your fur to freeze your veins and settle into your blood like a virus. And in the winter time it was enough to drive lesser beasts back down to the warm southlands, bleating like scalded lambs. But spring was on the crest and although it was still jarringly different than anything offered by any season in the Deserts, it wasn’t so bad today.
The titan recognized the spicy scent of the Deserts well before he recognized that it was his own blood brother who carried the smell. But when he topped the ridge and laid eyes on Gaza, a vein of grief throbbed hot and hateful through his heart. He looked just like their father, a twin to him by another other description. While Kratos could arguably be an even mix of Lyric and Vanquish, Gaza was the reincarnation of their king father, minus the impressive set of dragonwings Vanquish was often depicted by.
Although born in the Dale under the reign of his mother Lyric, Kratos had spent the majority of his childhood in his father and step-mother’s kingdom. When their parents died Kratos made his way to the Tundra, leaving behind his twin and other siblings. He was not an overtly sentimental soul, he hadn’t even sought any of his brothers or sisters after Lyric and Vanquish were laid bone to dirt. He hadn’t seen Dorne in years, Caius or Tarnished could be added to that same list. And although Kratos had never met the youngest of his father’s brood, there was no mistaking this one for a son of any other than the Nightwalker’s.
The draft was already descending the knoll to receive his brother when Aneku materialized right beside the black stallion. Black ears flick back against his skull and although it only lasts a moment, lightning ripples across his skin like a white-hot wave and leaves the ground steaming and the snow boiled away in his wake. “You don’t exactly blend in with the background here yet yourself,” he says to the chestnut as he pulls up beside the two stallions, while Kratos’ voice is thick with sarcasm there is no real hostility in it. He has a biting, dry sense of humor that he wielded on a sharp tongue, too much like his mother. Aneku would grow used to it, just as the rest of the Brothers had - he would have to.
Turning back to Gaza he tilts his heavy head, gesturing that he cross into the Tundra, “come in, little brother.”
Gaza has never been taught to fear others; his Ima is a magician and his Abba was a powerful King. Though he, himself, wields no fancy power and harbors no demons in his soul, the young man has never had any reason to fear anything. Perhaps that is foolish, for there are many things in the world that he should fear. It is a naive sort of fearlessness, not bold or brash or boasting, simply the eyes of a lamb who has never stared down the jaws of the slavering wolf.
So when the chestnut stallions pops up in front of him (he jerks his head towards the apparator, but is not startled - Yael does the same thing) and leers at Gaza as if he were something to either eat or mount, Gaza just kind of… looks complacently back at him with more than a little confusion. “Well… yes, I suppose I am a bit out of place. You probably get many visitors from the Desert this far north. But I’m not lost, I’m looking for - “ and that’s when Kratos shows up. Gaza is friendly with Kreios, and though it’s been awhile, he’s probably seen Dorne more recently than his brother has. He may have their sire’s likeness, but he seems to have more of his personality. From what Gaza can gleam off a few words.
Gaza smiles, holding back the edges from turning into his own little smirk (see, Aneku? Not lost). Sidestepping the lukewarm slush surrounding Kratos, Gaza dips his own heavy head in return, replying “Thank you… brother.” Oh. That word is sweet in his mouth. It quickly occurs to him that Kratos probably doesn’t know his name. “I’m Gaza. It’s good to finally meet you, Kratos.” He turns his head back to the teleporting stallion, and though he tried to intimidate him, Gaza has been raised to be polite. “And you are?”
A fresh, icy burst of wind comes off the Wall and Gaza shivers involuntarily. Would he ever be able to get used to such cold? Could he actually endure the winters here as a Brother?
If you need me I'll be out with the night.
If you need me I'll be up with the moon.
Watch me changing as you turn out the light.
Watch me changing as I leave your cocoon.
I'm like a ghost, a vampire in the mirror,
You're the beast that's waiting to feed.
Lord of the flies you think that you are the leader.
You act so big and watch it bleed.
____Aneku's ears were cocked to the side, listening, his dead cold eyes watching, waiting. He was silent, contemplating slow demises in his head, stirring little tales of woe, some rather disturbed fairytales. He stood out, like flame against the snow, his black eyes an oblivion as dark and ominous as some of the caverns in the Tundra itself. The fiery steed was cool, the ice in the air chilling his finer skin. He was acclimatising to the air, the loam beneath his feet. The only thing that he was finding, perhaps a little burdensome was the lack of blood in the place -- by blood, he for once did not mean the scarlet life source spilling on the white floor, no, the fiery steed meant faces, beating hearts, muscular flesh. It was good to see another, good in the way a predator finally spots a small rabbit in his infinite hunger. Aneku was not hungry, he was not famished in the way for food, as he was for knowledge.
____It is not long before another joins the foray. He recognises him from the meeting, his pale form, he blends in well with the backdrop, a true stalker. Aneku acknowledges him with a nod, a simple noncommittal greeting, but then Kratos speaks, sardonic dripped words, they are a sort of tonic, music serenading the chestnut's ears. It was something other than the whistling wind, the bend of the trees as it howled past, or the winter wolves' sorrowful cry in the midnight hour. He smirked then, a devious twist of his ashen lips, "I can hardly sneak up on others now, can I?" his laugh was short, more of a quick and sharp cackle before it dispersed into the air in a coin of icy breath. He turned back to the wanderer, his dark eyes roaming him, drinking him in. "Sometimes being lost doesn't mean in a strange territory." his words are hardly shrewd, hardly wise, they are just there, fragments of a puzzle that Aneku is still trying to solve. He was a complex stallion, a mind as jumbled and as fragmented as broken rocks. He turns back to Kratos, ears twitching, listening, then once more he turns back to the stranger. "If this a family affair, I will not keep you. Families... they are... not my taste." he licked his lips then; remembering the tang of his mother's blood, the toughness of her aged flesh. He remembers the memory he engraved in his mind, the scent more than anything of a brother he never knew, but a brother he sought to find. He flicked his tail, idly, pointlessly. He shifted, disappeared and then reappeared just beyond Gaza, his muzzle dipped a little. He could do this, this respect thing, this talking like a real being thing. It wasn't all just glares and silence, he had a voice after all. A creepily haunting lullaby of sorts. A death rattle if it were. "I'm Aneku. The Tundra is new to me, but is home. It takes some getting used to but... it grows on you." he inhaled the air then, wisps of cool breath spiralling from his nostrils, he turned his head to quietly observe Kratos, and then back to Gaza, but he spoke to none in general. "The Tundra needs men, I'm sure Kratos is more inclined to agree." he blinked, dark eyes meeting those of the pale man, he kept his gaze, perhaps slightly eerie, unnerving, not blinking, not hardly breathing, then he dispersed once more, gone for several moments before reappearing back between the two brothers. He wanted to say something, something witty, something meaningful but the steed was past that, past flowy thoughts and handsome words. He grunted a little, a breath, cold, harsh. He had his mind preoccupied, still thinking up plans, schemes, still finding paths that his brother had trod, the scent was still there, vague and almost non-existent, but it was there. He had work to do. He dipped his nose to both stallions, kept a keen eye upon Kratos, a smooth smirk touching his lips. He liked him. He had character. It was becoming. "I shall leave you two... family business and all that." a pause, a long, deliberating and unblinking stare to Gaza, "Pleased to meet you, Gaza. Until next time." his chestnut frame then melted into the atmosphere, and he was gone, out of their view and up on a higher ridge just above them, watching, silently. He was there if things turned awry, but whether or not he'd put a foot in, it was undecided. He kept his dark eyes as a watchful sentry over the Tundra.
ANEKU
the teleporting death god of carnage & jinca, the coldhearted resident of the tundra
