"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
She'd followed the sunshine for years, watched it rise up with it's tangerine wings, it's paling light, glorious and vivid, she blinded herself everyday and come moonrise, she'd fade into the darkness, her eyes closed, her mind empty. She'd missed Beqanna's sunlit touch, she mostly missed the Tundra, she missed Viento, her grandfather, she missed Starhart, her adopted grandmother. she missed lots of things, but mostly she missed the feeling of the sun on her back, the glorious sunny wings. She never did find her mother, the winged mare, the beautiful creature she was stolen from at birth. Her scarred neck never really healed a great deal, where ivory met ebony, she was disfigured, hard flesh raised and grey, an ugly stain upon such a mottled coat. She was greying now in age, but in mind she was still young, carefree, innocent.
The years had not been kind to her, they had been long and tedious, she'd been alone, she wandered great widths of Beqanna, in search of the winged mare, her pale skin like an angel, her wings the same. She also never found the mare that had done this to her, Viento had told her in a kind, warm tone that it was hr grandmother's doing, that he would have vengeance one day. But Lirel did not acknowledge his words, to Viento, Amnesia was dead. But Lirel was sure she was alive, somewhere, anywhere.
Her years of wandering finally brought her to a wonderful little seaside place, her ash hooves slipping easily through the sand, her long monochrome mane grown unkempt and past her knees, she had feathers what she guessed came from her father, a mixture of her mother. She never truly looked at herself anymore than some black and white portrait, left on the wall, dusty and worn. Lirel was a sunlight child, optimistic and bright in a world so grey, but she also was plagued with flashbacks of blood red and black. Her little heart had grown but sadly nothing filled it, except the sun, the sun's loving touch on her cold skin.
This sandy beach was a sun trap, and the piebald mare finally fell to her knees. In exhaustion, in defeat, she wasn't sure. but her knees buckled as soon as she hit the shoals. her feet gave way beneath her and she rolled on her side where she stayed, letting the low waves lap at her, it was cold, still the early spring brought ice with the waters, but it was refreshing, she felt the sun bright against her, as she whispered, a low song, an angel's words in a quaint serenade.
"Sun bright, sun light, rays so warm you brighten my life. Eyes so blinded by the rays, I cannot help but escape."
Always some sort of riddle, some vacant rhyme, she was never knowing she did it most of the time, but her head lay on the soft sand and her breathing became shallow, as if she weren't breathing at all.
The poor mare was as slow as a snail in a race, her eyes so blinded, her mind jaded, dreaming fairytale dreams in such a nightmarish world. Lirel didn't know just what would come of her here in Beqanna, anymore. Let alone laying in a land that she guessed was unoccupied, or occupied. the piebald mare did not see many, did not see any when her hooves touched the sand, but her daydream green eyes were closed, her heart singing the same song as her shallow voice.
"I'll never find you, oh angel winged one. I'll never find the warmth, your summer's touch."
Lirel leopold x amnesia
black and white daughter
I crack my t e e t h on pearls
I shut the door and turn all the lights out.
And listen to all the songs that the night shouts.
They go something just like this...
So go fill up a glass with tonic rocks and gin
and drink yourself to happiness.
____The summer heat is tepid, like warm fingers pressing on pulses, hot hands smothering his body with a never-ending grip. He'd taken to lounging in the waters, they were cool, the lapping salty froth making his body feel rather good, making his blood not feel so much like it was boiling over. Nier did not know what to point that to, the boiling blood, the heavy ache within him, every muscle spasmed in a form of desperation, every bone seemed to throb. A strange feeling, a strange feeling indeed. So the buckskin grey stallion decided to do what he did best, and that was melt into the backdrop, invisible to all, just bathing in the waters, mulling, contemplating. A dangerous habit for him to get into.
____His thoughts past many topics. The desires were feverish within him, they leapt out from him and danced across the sky. He had many feelings, he was adamant of bottling away, predominately right now the feeling of wanting to please. How foolish a thing, a demon, a sloth, laziest demon, wanting to please another! Nier gave a harsh, almost bitter grunt and he pawed at the water, splashing a torrent of salt and foam into his face, his eyes. They stung but he persisted. A bitter pain had to be better than the strange feeling like a haematoma blossoming in his chest; heavy, burdensome.
____He thought of Star then, the dappled one, the little light that sparked the Gemstone Ridge with something more than the glitter of precious gemstones. He thought of the future also, her words, they still throbbed in his skull. Children. Little feet running around the sand. Mini Nier's, Mini Star's. He gave a low, brash snort again, a sharp sneeze from the salty air and he materialised back into fleshy form. his wings outstretching, shaking the droplets from them. Children. A bloodline, his bloodline. It was the right thing to do (he thought then, of the children he'd sired in the past, mere mistakes, accidents if that.) he wanted to be a better father than he had (his was non-existent) and of course, he would have something a lot stronger than his mother had. He had the safety of a herd, his herd, his land. And if any threatened his home, his harem or his future children. Well, they would definitely see the demon come out.
____He gave a low whicker then, a low call. He wanted company, it felt strange to think that, but he did. He had spent perhaps too long being a bitter and twisted man, spending too long focusing on revenge, vengeance and bloodlust. He was taking now as a form of retirement. He stayed within the waters, the foam like clouds frothy against his pelt. starting to warm in the sun's rays. He lowered his head then, ears drooped to the sides, for a moment, sheer blissful silence. a rarity indeed.
____That was until he noticed something odd about his landscape. A black and white figure, laying there, looking dead, unmoving. Nier got up out of the waters and trotted over, his nostrils flaring ten to the dozen; the figure did not smell dead. He knew death, it was rancid, bitter in the back of your throat. This one, was sweet smelling, a familiar taint to her skin, a tang of something new. He inhaled again and focused. ears twitching, then she moved and Nier took a backward step, his eyes trailing over her. She was familiar. She had the familiarity of his first, the one he had given everything to. his ears pinned tightly to his skull then and he lowered his muzzle to her, catching the faint gasps of breath. she was a mess of scars and pieces of tree. She was not very well kept at all. He gave a stomp of his front hoof, trying to stir her, as gentle as he could be. Whilst in his mind the demon pulled at him. leave her to die. leave her be. He shook his head and then pressed his nose against her stomach, feeling the warmth of her gave indication she was still very much alive.
N i e r
the winged, invisible demon of tyrael & amnesia, stalks the gemstone ridge with no one by his side
I sit here clutching useless lists,
keys for doors that don't exist
I crack my teeth on pearls
I tear into the history
Show me what it means to me in this world
Yeah, in this world
Lirel breathes, like wanton gasps, air reaching in and filling every fibre of her lungs, but never reaching her enough. She's cold, she feels the sun does not reach her coloured frame, it does not extend it's warm, loving fingers and wraps themselves around her. She cries silent tears, she wants so much to have the sun touch her back, grace her blinding green eyes. She wants so much, but receives so little. Her black and white head shifts, ever so slightly, and that is when she opens her eye, spots someone standing just above her.
The piebald mare meets his eye then, moving down his face, his neck until she spotted his wings. Beautiful white wings. A pain hits her then, right in the heart, like a throbbing throw embedding deeper and deeper. Memories flash, cold, black and white. Blood taints the monochrome picture. Lirel was born to a winged angel, with the greenest eyes of emeralds, the softest grey flesh and adorned with large feathery wings. Lirel cries then, not for her lost childhood, but for the mother she never had, for the loving touch she will never receive.
But then he touches her, and she heaves a large breath inward, holding her tongue with teeth. His touch is warm, a tad bit watery, she feels his pulse and she arches her back ever so slightly, she sinks deeper into the sand, if only a little. It's soft, pliable beneath her form, it's a welcoming warmth to cold, numbing bones. Lirel inhales another sharp breath, it's like breathing in needles. but his touch, it's like a fire and it burns her, she recoils then, lifting her head and meeting his eyes. his wings, his face, he is silver dressed in tinges of gold. She idolises him right there, right then. A slight reminder from the grey stallion Viento, her grandfather. a regal looking head set atop a proud neck. Lirel whickers low, a small sound, child-like and innocent. Her emerald eyes never leaving him, clinging to the strange stallion's body, his face, his eyes. He's everything in her eyes there, he is the soft warmth of flesh, the beautiful wings of an angel.
"Have I died? Have I finally died and gone to the angels?"
l i r e l;
the broken little girl of leopold & amnesia
if you had died, wench, you would not end up here.
raven beauty cascades across the loam. ebon flints shuffling through grains beneath. velveteens sharp with spite as orbs of cerulean capture her master in them. femme growls at the ebony and ivory fatale. another one falling for the alabaster stud? she had to share her master now. piqued eyebrows knit against facade as femme turns her bodice to her silver stud.
you sure pick your herd members.
stygian plume dances across glossy haunches. femme looks at the maiden on the sand. sorry state, facade of sorrow. fatale backs off, plume teasing haunches in a cadence.
they seem to be attracted to you. i wonder why.
femme giggles, velveteens pushed into the stud’s barrel, she watched behind tresses of ebony at the ebony and ivory maiden. a sorry state. did nier feel sorry for everyone he came across?
she can stay if she wants to... i belief that is what you want? im sure that is what beloved star would want. more friends of the light.
I shut the door and turn all the lights out.
And listen to all the songs that the night shouts.
They go something just like this...
So go fill up a glass with tonic rocks and gin
and drink yourself to happiness.
____The mare reminds him of the clouds against dusk, just as darkness starts to pepper the sky, as does the black mark her skin. He noticed her scars, they were evident upon first glance but as she moves and swings her head to him, she dishevels her mass of mane and the thick, raised scars are hideously noticeable. Nier has passing moments, thinking how could anyone suffer such terrible scarring, that remained still unsightly now. He gave a low grunt, as she turns to him, her breathing changes, not so erratic but still not normal. He had flickers of something then, reminders of watching Her dying before his eyes, her last breaths had been bittersweet because not only did they share something between two souls, but also two hearts. He'd both cherished them and hated them.
____The grey buckskin offered her his muzzle again, as it seemed to suppress her anxiety, her inability to breath properly. He didn't know why, there was something about her, something that made the cogs in his mind turn, rusty as they were, they opened locked doors and tried to force down those barricaded walls. She was a replica of Her. Even down to the emerald eyes. It was a treasured moment to see her again, but he knew it wasn't real. A familiarity they shared, but the scars (they were even in the right place, however She had more than this mare.) he whiskered low, his normally lazily pinned ears twitching forward, listening, trying to catch her hoarse words. He had to laugh, if any moment was terribly timed, it would be his laughter on a dying mare's bedside.
____"No, Sunshine. Afraid this isn't heaven and I'm no angel." he was honest, he had to be. It didn't matter to him right now, as she seemed to be putty in his fingers. The way those green eyes held him, it was like he was all she saw. He snapped his head up then, at cruel words dressed in silk. It had to be only one other, and there she was, raven black, beautiful and dangerously close to having his teeth graze her shoulder as she slithered up beside him. His ears pinned briefly. This wasn't the first time she fell upon him and a stranger on his land, she needed to be more amenable, more like Star in the way of welcoming whoever he saw fit to enter these lands (he seemed to be getting a strange recurring pattern of strangers wandering on his land) he grunted, a low hiss at her words. "No, Pet. I will not have you spinning audacious words. You will learn you are here because of me and i'm afraid if you do not start obeying what I say when it comes to this sort of behaviour, then I will make no amends for what I may do." he watched her then, quietly, taking his attention from the piebald mare, of course BrokenStar would like that. he nudged her, firm and quite harsh, more or less telling her to move away. "But of course, you may like that." he admitted, for the black beauty seemed to have strange mannerisms and he wouldn't put it past her if she liked to be... beaten.
____He was surprised by her last words though. Yes, that would be right. Take in the broken mare, fix her up and send her on her way? He was no hospital for wounded souls... but he did have something in mind. He scanned the fallen mare again and locked her eyes with his. Emeraldine sparkles, vacant and dreary. She had seen much in her life it seemed, scars running deeper than her exterior. He stepped forward and bent his neck, his muzzle quite softly brushing along her scarred neck. It was as though he was reliving moments in his past, he tried to force them out, tried to make his voice sound stronger, colder than they felt. He turned to the black mare, briefly before turning his attention back to the black and white one. "You can stay here. It's safer than wandering in your condition. I'll make certain you are protected. Perhaps we can talk more when you are a bit more... together." he turned then to the black arabian, "Help me lift her, will you? support her side as she gets up." he was unsure whether or not she would, maybe it called for BlueLightningStar, the dappled mare had compassion in her heart, more than the black mare, and more than him (however he seemed to be growing some like thorns around his heart) He sent a call, a piercing whinny to wherever she might be, probably her favourite little hideaway, the one he showed her. He had a shred of hope that she would come, maybe the softer appearance of Star would calm the piebald mare.
____"What's your name, sunshine?"
N i e r
the winged, invisible demon of tyrael & amnesia, stalks the gemstone ridge with no one by his side
I sit here clutching useless lists,
keys for doors that don't exist
I crack my teeth on pearls
I tear into the history
Show me what it means to me in this world
Yeah, in this world
Ebony and ivory barrel breathes in a gasp of movement, inhaling a wayward breath, Lirel finally expands those weakening lungs. She breathed then, she breathed in his air, his world. Her emerald eyes solely fixated upon the winged one, his angelic wings, they captivated her, his dark eyes were chasms she foundered in. The mare clutched at straws, reaching out and pressing her muzzle against his knee. He was warm. Real and warm. Blood flowed within him, life surged beneath his skin. She whiskered, twice, three times before finally she blew an easy breath.
"I could be in heaven or I could be in hell. But you still look like an angel to me."
The mare admitted with a shy smile, a smile that cracked dry lips. Her sunshine eyes would never be taken from his, she kept a steady breath, her throat parched, dry, wanting fluid, her eyes wanted sleep, but all she wanted was his touch. It gave her a little beat to her heart. She had found something, wings, grey, she had found a double of what she had lost, and she didn't want to lose it again. Lirel turned her head slightly as another approached. she was dark like night, had eyes to match. Black as coal, black as pitch. Lirel pinned her ears back, she gave a shudder, it twitched her whole body. She refused to answer, kept staring at the winged stallion with wide eyes and a big, beating heart. Then he spoke to the black mare and Lirel shuddered beneath his echoing voice, it bounced in her skull like bullets and she concealed herself, hid, lower to the ground, cowering almost. It brought back painfully raw memories and she felt the pain start up in her neck. she whistled low, kept whistling until the hissing voices had stopped, and finally the grey buckskin steed turned his attention back to her and she idolised him again, looked up at him with big green eyes and a grin as wide as the rocky ledges of the cliffs.
"I'm Lirel. And Lirel, Lirel would love to stay here. The sand is soft beneath her feet, the sun is warm, very warm and then you, you are here. Lirel likes you. Lirel needs you."
Childish like and innocent, naive and broken inside, the piebald mare brought her knees up and felt supported by the steed, she was unsure with the mare, but felt the steed was a light, and he called her sunshine! she smiled then, a smile that felt crooked on her cracked, dry lips. her eyes dazed, half closed. So tired, so thirsty. she felt her knees weaken as she stood up and practically started to fall into the steed, she wobbled some more, regained a little composure and stood for a few minutes, before fumbling on her weary feet again, and falling into a heap, stray tears clouded her eyes then, she didn't want to leave, she didn't want to leave the warmth on her back, the winged angel by her side. But the exhaustion in her, it was taking it's toll. Skinny and cold, scarred and tired, the mare was a broken rag doll and she hoped, she prayed that the sunshine, the winged sun beside her, she hoped he would fix her. Put together all of her broken little pieces and hold her up to the sun and be 'you are mended now, beautiful doll. my sunshine.'
l i r e l;
the broken little girl of leopold & amnesia
