"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 once thought she knew herself. That all the little boxes, separate and perfectly wrapped could exist together, their own little universes inside her. Except that one day they spilled, first this one into that one, and then that one into those. A mess of dirt and glitter strewn across a marble floor. No not marble, wet cement. Not only can she never sweep them back up into their seperate secret places but much of the mess is stuck fast, forever out if its neat secret hiding place.
Kensa will have to learn to live with her glitter and her darkness tangled together.
There was a time when she could have shown the hell within herself to Litotes and he would have forgiven her it, even embraced it. Instead she had hidden things, thinking she could grow past it or handle it herself. The absence of love for their child came first. It was not the first secret, she’d spread herself out for a handful of other men by then but it never meant anything. Not loving or wanting Kelynen—she should have confessed—there was something amiss, some dark strangling vine was growing up inside her. Then came Starsin and that should have meant nothing too but she wanted more, more of her, some little corner to tug at when she was hungry for it. He loved that woman and she should not have minded, he should have been able to confess and find comfort in a wife like her who would not punish him (but jealousy instead had been her reply and a violent possessiveness that now makes no sense to her)...And finally Brigade. If she could undo it all, draw it back to the day Litotes returned from Loess she would give up even Hyaline to keep herself from where she is today, even if she were nothing, even if he would have, could have had Starsin in her place and she were still alone in the end.
Right now she’d carve a lovely gothic A into her breast if only she could silence her whore’s heart.
How did she become this secret keeper, this omitter of details, this liar? What else might she have been if there were no plagues and betrayals and lust..? Kensa has acquired an unfortunate self awareness that fills too many of her days with regret and reflection that could paralyze her if she didn’t have so much to keep her moving. On the outside she is still herself, too goddamn beautiful even when she feels only rot within herself.
She still might as well put a dumb innocent look on her face and fuck a little chaos into the world with a precise jerk of her capable hips. Not today though, today is not for that.
For the first time in a while Kensa makes herself freely available in Hyaline, rather than separating herself to patrol or allowing her sons to bracket her and intercept anyone who might try to gain an audience. She’ll need to attend to some diplomatic visits soon but for today she weaves among the autumn colored trees and out into the slowly yellowing long grass south of the lake. Stopping there the Primarch draws a deep, steadying breath and finds a smile for her unholy-beautiful face. Her eyes are still sharp ochre chakrams in her face, an unspoken warning away from her personal heartaches but her posture is relaxed. When someone inevitably approaches she tips her head a fraction, “Tell me anything at all, I need a few thoughts that are not my own.”
I just want to let you know: my mind refuses to let you go I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
The world is not what it’s supposed to be. Was it ever? Probably not. At any rate, it’s not like he could turn back time and not fall head over heels for her. What’s done is done. He’ll live the rest of his life alone. Not entirely loveless, (or perhaps it’ll be just that), just not together-together, with a lover.
Nobody said he couldn’t enjoy the fake warmth of a random stranger in the night. In fact, if they did, would he care? No, he wouldn’t. So what’s stopping him? From anything he wants? Family always stopped him - his mother, his siblings, their offspring, his offspring. No more. That’s right, you heard that. There’s no stopping him.
Had the blue mare not been willing to fall for his charms so easily, it probably wouldn’t have stopped him either. Lucky her, she seemed to quite enjoy their time together. But perhaps it’s time to go find her again. He’s never left his family alone after all.
When he waltzes down the mountain from his lair, he finds someone else in his way, instead. Kensa. He remembers respect for the woman, an easy conversation in the time before, a motherly approach to a wayward child, also before. Perhaps she won’t like him anymore, but that’s not his problem. He’s only here to fend off intruders after all. If his stormy face and ice-cold gaze do the trick, then so be it… or perhaps, no. It’d be better maybe to be able to lure people in. Look innocent and all. Get a sense of them before showing his teeth.
He takes a deep breath where the sabino mare can’t hear. Then, he cleans his facial expression, fully intent on walking past her with just a simple everyday greeting. But when she hears his footfall, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for everyday conversation. She is as bad as he, today.
Interesting. Falling still, behind her for she hasn’t turned her head around, there is a moment in which he can appreciate her beauty without her knowing (sure, he’d teased and complimented her on it before, but acknowledgement and appreciation aren’t the same). But it’s only fleeting seconds. She wants him to say anything at all, she says, and if he doesn’t come up with an answer, she will start to worry or suspect.
It’s there on the tip of his tongue. My wife left me. She let me believe she’d come home, but I saw her with another without so much of a word to me at all. What’s new in Kensa-land? He almost says it - but he hates wallowing, and swallows it. Instead, he edges a little closer. ”What sort of distractions are we looking for today?” he asks while lining up parallel to her. His cold scales and hot breath mere inches away from her skin, he wonders if she’ll recognize the change and step away. The edge of danger she may or may not be in, something he hasn’t yet decided if he will cross the line or stay put. Is she the type to play, crosses his mind, or the type to run? Perhaps appoint to him another victim? Surely a loosely-tied dragon can be useful at times.
When your fears are cast aside, will you remember me?
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Kensa]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
09-08-2019, 09:26 PM (This post was last modified: 09-09-2019, 10:44 PM by Kensa.)
KENSA
we were golden. we were fire. we were magic.
It is Leilan who joins her, he takes his time but she pays no mind. Let him watch her or deliberate on if he really wants to speak with her. It is easy to imagine herself to be poor company after these weeks of withdrawing.
Yet he comes up alongside her in the end. Close, filling her vision with his roan bulk and coaxing a single gold trimmed ear to train on him. She’s played the game too many times to misunderstand the proximity, and her wry smile is little more than a disheartened flicker on pale lips. It bothers her that there is nothing in her that wants to entertain an attraction, she is far from repulsed by her lieutenant...and wouldn’t it be a chance to forget a few things and while away an hour or two? So she tries. Nostrils flare to draw on the appealing masculinity of his scent, her focus turning to the radiant coolness that presses out from his side, the sound of his measured breaths.
There is nothing but a sensation of staggering and close nothingness. A discordant and defiant note like a gong mistruck. Magnets repelling. All the vibrant sexual energy that once helped define her is deadened and mute.
It's frustrating but Kensa feels something like resignation far more keenly.
He might expect her to reach out or refuse but instead she remains exactly where she is, reminding herself over and over that she deserves nothing but this null, this spent -whore blankness. Tilting her head to look at Leilan, Kensa’s topaz eyes display all the weariness that her unnatural beauty will permit. “Something unusual, I wager. What do dragons do for fun? …other than roosting and brooding, of course.” The Primarch manages to tease him, turning her ears back and tipping her chin up. Her heart manages a guilty ache at the light-heartedness but this is better than nothing at all. Flicking her tail at him she pulls away a few steps. “Come on Leilan, let's go find some entertainment. Show me how to hunt something… or are you not that kind of dragon?” This is said with some consternation, she is not at all interested in offending the scaled beast. If she knew him better she might explain, I’d bed you if I didn’t feel like a hollow worthless thing, but you’d be sorry in the end. or say why are you bothering with me, don’t you have a woman with a soul tucked away somewhere? but as they are only just compatriots she bids for lighter (if bloody) fare and hopes he doesn’t take it for rejection.
I just want to let you know: my mind refuses to let you go I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
The beautiful sabino mare has been captivating for as long as he remembers (which admittedly is only a year or so); he doesn’t know nor care about her reputation, and frankly wouldn’t have cared about his own. To regret one has to have a conscience, and listen to it as well; something the glazed-over male currently isn’t capable of. If he’d known her thoughts he might have found her endearing, sweet in how much she tries to behave like what has become normal to her, cute how much she would still try to keep him from being miserable.
The point however is that he already is miserable, and the only thing to avoid feeling miserable is to not feel anything at all.
She understands the concept of faking; she tries and fails, but perhaps it’s not a coupling he was truly after. No, he’s quite certain that the satisfaction he seeks is not sexual - today. Still he appreciates her trying to meet his apparent question, and does not think her lesser for it when she pulls back - in fact perhaps her decision makes her stronger.
She jokes her way around it as he would have done not too long ago. He recognizes this and like a good subject, doesn’t comment, imply or even change his expression. He humours her with a shrug. ”Literally anything - hoarding treasure, tricking young ambitious travellers perhaps; kidnapping pretty maidens, maybe eat one instead of returning them for gold.”
Sharp, pointy teeth show when he grins to the mare. ”You wouldn’t be interested in a bit of real manhunting for a change, would you?” he asks her then.
An unwary horse is a much better price than a mouse, after all.
When your fears are cast aside, will you remember me?
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Kensa] sorry for replying so fast, I did all his posts in one roll
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
Truth be told she never expected to find even this amiable acquaintance with Leilan. Though they both seem to easily turn to humor he strikes her as grumpy and solitary much of the time. Perhaps that is good, to have some balance among the members of Hyaline. She is always fast to make friends but has never pushed the issue with the dragon, finding that it is nice that he requires nothing of her, not kind words or coddling or even now— when they are both raw from unspoken hurts—affection. At this point in her life Kensa needs people around her like Leilan.
...maybe eat one of them instead of returning them for gold. Laughter makes it past her lips before her tight throat can strangle it away. She has no use for maidens and has all the gold she needs but imagining a dragon making a snack out of the least profitable of his hostages is morbidly amusing.
Now manhunting, she has done her fair share of that but none at all of the kind her Lieutenant is implying. It is a toothy grin he wears after making the unique suggestion. Kensa studies Leilan with appraising ochre eyes and admires the scissor bite of large, sharp fangs. “I might. Though I must insist on doing no harm”—her smile is somehow almost as sharp as his—“except where some measure of harm is due.”
—
@[Leilan] I'm sorry this is short! I'm going to have to get back into the swing!!
Kensa was a good leader to him - easy to talk to, on the surface level, and neither of them ever dug any deeper because they already knew what would be below the surface. So they had made the silent agreement not to.
It worked well for him, that she didn’t check on him regularly, neither he on her. And also, that she hadn’t moved on to any sort of intimacy. That way she had unknowingly ensured he still respected her. Instead they could play this game together.
She declared some rules, and he nodded. ”More or less like inviting a guest, then. What kind of a target would you like?” There’s all sorts - the young, the followers, or the fighters - and should they be tied to another region of Beqanna perhaps, or would she rather have one in the Meadow - or even play with her own subjects? He’s smelled one or two males around; perhaps she’d rather indulge in a more powerful way of playing with them, today, instead of the subtle way she was used to.
Who knew, right?
and I don’t want you to think that I care I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Kensa] short and late, so, let me know if you want this to continue? Perhaps a new thread?
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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