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i am the fire; any - Quark - 06-27-2016 My reunion with Daeryssa—Ryss, as she likes to be called now—was a difficult and emotional one. But it was worth every moment of pain to hold her close again, to see light in eyes that have been dull for so long. And I got to meet my first grandson Tycho officially, instead of sneaking around as an inconspicuous little beetle or watching from the trees as a squirrel or a songbird. None of those have ever been especially favorite shapes of mine, but I was willing to be anything, do anything, to be close by while my baby gave birth. To watch over her and her newborn son, even if she was already quite well-protected by the boy's father. The man she loves. He called himself Jack when they first met, and I didn't trust him worth a damn, not with my little girl. Rightfully so at the time, but there is something different about him now. No matter who he is, no matter what he has done, he would do anything to protect my daughter and my grandson. She loves him, and she allows his protection in a way she has refused mine. After the horrors I have seen—and the ones I have wrought—I can't ask for more than the knowledge that no matter what life brings their way, she is safe in his hands. And they've sure as hell made me a fine grandson. A healthy boy with a brilliant mind that is impenetrable to telepathy. For that gift alone, I would welcome Pazuzu into the family. After what happened to Nocturnal, I wish all of my descendants were so lucky. There's...not darkness exactly, lurking in the depths of Tycho's nearly black eyes, but a curiosity that bypasses empathy and emotion. But I have danced with demons in my day, bathed in blood and tasted madness like wildfire on my lips, and there is nothing in those dark eyes that frightens me. While I would love nothing more than to spend days bonding with my new grandson, the three of them are a family accustomed to their own company. Especially Tycho has a need for solitude etched into his soul. There will be plenty of time to visit in the future; for now, I take my leave with a hug for my daughter, a gentle touch of my nose to Tycho's shoulder, and a solemn nod to his father. When I am out of sight, my skin changes. I'm in no mood for the patches of black and white that roam across my skin, a solemn echo of a time when I burned as close to death as I could manage over the loss of my love. I don't want embers and ash on my skin today, not when my family is coming together around me once again. Well, at least pieces of it. Some keep themselves beyond my reach, either unwilling or not yet ready to reconnect. Others are on their own tumultuous path and do not want what little guidance or comfort I might offer. And still others have fallen, their lives lost in battle with their own inner demons or with the world at large. I miss you, Quan. It is for him that my old favorite blue stallion shape took on silver, cobalt framed in a metallic gleam like armor instead of the black of a night sky laced with silver starlight. Remembering him always wakes a quiet ache in my chest, sorrow for the boy he once was and the man he became. He fought well, my warrior brother. He died with honor and fought on even after death. Even now, he watches over my strange little angel, the troubled girl who inherited too much of my most difficult gift. It is for my shining knight that I take on that blue and silver shape, for him and for myself. I haven't worn this skin in so long I barely realized how much I have missed it. My frame broadens, my neck arching and my jaw squaring, echoes of testosterone subtly reshaping my body—and not so subtly, for that matter. Oh right. It's...er, it's been a while since I was male last. Sort of forgot about that. It takes a few strides to adjust to the...er, revised anatomy, but I spent enough time in this shape when I was younger that it doesn't take too long until I feel at home again. My female shape is home by biology and by circumstance—there was far more room in the Jungle for me as female, especially as I rose in the ranks and even more so when I held the throne. This, though? This is mine by choice and by birthright, a gift from the sire I never knew. I snort, tossing my head as my body settles into shape and itches to move, to rear, to strike at the air with massive hooves, setting the silver feathering my legs to dancing. To leap into motion, charging forward, those hooves pounding the earth in ancient, primal rhythm. Who am I to deny such a need? So I give in, bellowing a challenge to the world itself as my body moves of its own volition. I could burn this meadow to the ground, leaving fire in the wake of each stride as I run past towering trees and brand new saplings alike. Instead, I revel in the heat building in the expansion and contraction of muscles, the way each step resonates through my whole body, the air trailing cool lingering caresses through my mane and along my skin. How often do I leap fallen logs like that for the sheer joy of experiencing my body in motion? Or rush headlong into the water like this and roll in the river's current just to feel it rushing past me, washing away echoes of the past right along with the dirt and dust and sweat? Ahhh, I'd forgotten how glorious it can be just to walk upstream through flowing water, eyes half-closed, face upturned to greet the sunlight filtering down through the leaves of the water-loving trees overhanging the banks. Oh, if there are willows ahead, or a waterfall, I might be in paradise. Water still trickles down my skin, dripping from my mane as I walk aimlessly upstream, a contented little smile softening one corner of my mouth. There's one sure way to find out, and nothing to stop me from indulging my curiosity. God, what a fantastic feeling. (Reposting as an any thread. <3) RE: i am the fire; any - Marijuana - 07-04-2016
RE: i am the fire; any - Quark - 07-05-2016 The cool water rushes past my legs, and I pause to splash in it, pawing at the surface and sending water flying at my belly and back legs. I dip my head in and then toss it abruptly upward, and droplets fly into the air in a graceful arc before crashing back to the surface of the river. I can't remember the last time I played all by myself, without the prompting of a little one. First children, then grandchildren, and it's been ages since it was just me, doing so for the sake of it instead of to bond with a young soul. Ah, but it doesn't stay just me for long. A tentative call reaches my ears, and I toss my head one last time before turning to look, enjoying the spray of water drops flying off my silver mane and the way those drops hit the water as it ripples and flows around me. “Uhhh...playing with water? I guess so...” Frankly, it seemed perfectly normal to me, if a little bit moreso for someone younger. But hey, no judgement, sometimes starting conversations with strangers can be awkward. “I'm Quark,” I add with a bit of a shrug, walking toward the shore. My new acquaintance is an interesting-looking sort, grey zebra-striped with black, and green wings. A strange combination, but I've certainly seen stranger in this land. And the green of his wings goes nicely with his eyes. Mine only ever match like that one at a time, the blue with my preferred male shape and the yellow with my female one. Ooh. Though a blend of the two, blue with yellow accent markings or ombre, maybe some black tiger stripes running through both, and a white underside, hmm...that could be fun. I'll try it out later, maybe. Oh, right, stranger. I stay in my blue skin, distracted enough for the both of us without adding a color change to the mix. “It's nice to meet you, Marijuana.” I could take the last step or two to join him on the riverbank, but I like the feel of the water flowing around my hooves, coaxing the silver feathering in my lower legs to play in the current. Still, I'm close enough for conversation without crowding him. I match his little smile with one of my own, nodding a greeting. “Enjoying a wander along the river? It's a nice day for it.” RE: i am the fire; any - Marijuana - 07-06-2016
RE: i am the fire; any - Quark - 07-08-2016 Marijuana's comment about wandering coaxes a snort out of me. I know that feeling far too well. “Yeah, same here. I haven't been great at staying in one place lately, truth be told.” I left the Jungle ages ago, and haven't managed to settle anywhere since. Still doesn't feel right to go back either, not as anything other than a quick visit. Echo Trails is more my children's home than mine, welcome though I am. Nowhere has felt like home since...well. Since the only person who has ever been my home killed herself. The Jungle tried. Tangled me up in her warm embrace from the moment I was born, and it stuck well enough that I wound up reigning for a while. But a place was never quite good enough, never quite alive enough. Home is love, home is family, and it's been...unsettled for far too long. That old cliché that home is where the heart is? Mine's scattered around the world, little pieces of my heart with all of my children, my grandchildren...and the rest of it has been restless since it finished putting itself back together. I know well enough that home should be in this body, in my chest, beating steady and sure, racing with excitement or passion, but I have never...even after decades on my own, it's the loneliest goddamn thing in the world for home to be in me, instead of in us. Grunting, I shake my head and refocus my attention on the amusing stranger in front of me – who moves toward me, joining me in the water. “In a manner of speaking. Two of my children and their families live in Echo Trails. I spend most of the time I'm not wandering there.” Helping with the little ones, being surrounded by people I love, it has always made me feel more grounded. Helping feed the new babies has me thinking an awful lot about the past. About other times I've nursed foals, and what life was like then. It's not even her that I miss anymore. Well, that's not entirely true. But mostly I miss being that close with someone. Feeling whole and home and like I belong. Loving someone, without holding anything back. Bringing new life into the world as a testament to how deeply we loved. I don't think I have been as happy in my entire life as I was when I was nursing Xero. Just the three of us, wrapped up in each other in the depths of the Jungle. Together, and home, and so fucking happy. Even then, though. Even then, there was the lingering weight of tragedy, of the son who was stolen from us. Were we ever really happy, without devastation hiding at the edge of every touch? It's been so long, I can't even tell anymore. Fuck. Right. Talking. Again, I redirect my attention to Marijuana, who is studying his own reflection. I understand that feeling, not recognizing your own face. Well, of course I do. Obviously. My face can look like a stranger's with no more than a thought. I've worn so many shapes, it's no wonder nothing feels like home. “What about you? Is there somewhere you call home, or are you more of a nomad?” I tilt my head, watching him as he studies our reflections. Quite the pair indeed. |