"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
12-06-2016, 01:41 AM (This post was last modified: 12-06-2016, 02:18 AM by Potion|Ecco.)
POTION & ECCO
They mustn’t forget, he croons, voice like a hot knife through a stick of golden butter. Against her grayed coat he had draped a lavender tinted wing, cloaking her in feathers as if to coax her like a babe. Words whispered into her gray ears, passing tendrils and wisps of lavender hair to make their way down the canal and to her mind. Go to to them my daughter, make them remember, make them see. Let the world once again recall my name, let them pull their children close and their daughters closer. Let them know that I remain, let them trace my name in their thoughts once more.
As if she needed convincing, as though she must be begged or goaded to do his bidding. That’s all she had ever done, all they had all ever done and the way of their world was not like to end now. Yes of course Father would remain on that Mountain, for now. Sitting atop the lush hillsides like an emperor too grand to be bothered with leaving his throne but that’s what Kirin had kids for- so, so many young ,moldable things. Things to do what he could not be concerned with himself and why should he? He need not lift a finger to wield power and so he did not. Kirin, though relatively large in the great scheme of the world, had nary a reason to rely on brawn, or brute strength. (But being tall and well built had of course not gone amiss when needed) No, his nature and gifts were much more devious than that.
And of course the greatest of them all were held in vessels of his own creation- in the babes that sprang from his loins and littered the realm with a splash of the color purple. Potion was no exception, smiling a small but sly smile as she dipped her head and flicked her lavender tail as she departed down the Mountain. Not alone, never alone because for all the things she entrusted to her dear ol’ Dad, she did not bequeath him her daughter. Regardless of how or why the girl had come about was of no importance when all was said and done, the once buckskin mare was far too intelligent to even allow the chance for error on that matter. She was her Mother after all, and she took to the title with nothing less than a regard of responsibility and love. So, instead of single handedly restoring the name of Kirin among the whispered woes of the world, she would be assisted by her own foul, and terrifyingly beautiful creation.
Thus the two women crept down the craggy slope, grey legs trembling as they skittered against uneven ground. A daunting resemblance in the two, both a cloudy gray base with hair like misty lavender. The color crept up their points too, faded from years passed, yet they were unnervingly young. There was an ethereal way about them, faces untainted by the ravage of time, yet the eyes held a different truth. Settled in at the physical appearance of 5 and no more. Among all the similarities there was only one difference and even still it was slight, Ecco was more waifish than her Dam, (if just by a hair) but most could not even tell unless they knew them well (few knew them at all to be sure).
Eventually the hills ended, the slopes became less perilous until they dropped off and thickened into wood. There they rested, swaying into the copse of trees and finding the thick patches of grass filling but bitter compared to the sweetness of that which grew by magic on the Mountainside. Ecco flicked her tail in thought as she chewed, taking in the surroundings of the early morning scene. Fog draped itself lovingly against the earth, adding a sense of witchery to the picture, caressing the mares as it gently whispered against their hocks. “It's practically suffocating Mother,” Ecco remarked as she finished a bite, clearly unamused by the closeness of quarters. Her voice was a gentle tinkle against the wind, yet like a chill in the air it held its own bite. “And what do you know of suffocation Ecco?” the elder replied, a sternness to her own gentle vocals, lulling to the ears like the lapping of the ocean against the shore.
dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
12-08-2016, 10:13 PM (This post was last modified: 12-08-2016, 10:24 PM by Slaybell.)
Merry Christmas, you filthy animal
She stirred in the darkness, the hot stagnant air like a too heavy blanket she couldn't untangle from. Summer, what a terrible season. Hot humid air that sat heavy on her emerald coat, clung to her throat so that she could not breathe. She knew not how long the darkness held her this time, days, weeks, years? The stiffness in her joints said it was that of years; as her red forelock stuck to her face and eyes. She shook her thick neck to release the plastered strands, grumbling to herself about the inconvienence. The ever curious mare wondered why she had stirred this time? What omnipresent itch needed addressing? Every foray into the populated world of Beqanna had left her less than enthralled, and more beaten down. Slaybell, the unwanted tossed aside abandoned misfit. Whatever caused her to stir she knew she must see it out or else become restless in the darkness.
The darkness, she wasn't sure where it was, in terms of space and time, but it would spit her back out into Beqanna when it felt she needed to address things or get berated once more. This time was no different, just like that she was in the forest. Plopped down with no instruction or hint about what her purpose was. As if the abyss had said, "Get on with it already." A heavy sigh escaped her lips; what purpose indeed. She began to walk, heavy footed, unenthused with her change of environment. She plowed through the uneven terrain leaving a trail of broken twigs and overturned soil. Her attention on nothing particular, she took in the sights of the shadow covered forest. Until she heard the voices of 2 others, both mares. Slaybell's ears perked forward and she was curious what would come with the voices-- if nothing else.
The Darkness had taken her blood lust from her; the unfortunate consequence of heredity and being born during the war. She hadn't interacted with another being since then . Her mind raced with the possibility of being able to hear without the constant droning of a heart beat. Footsteps fell louder as their paths continued on a crash course. Two mares, one older the other younger, came into view. Both held the same smokey lavender hue and something told her they were just as out-of-place as she. Slaybell, curious to find others with colored bodies outside of the standard shades, wondered if this was what had caused her to stir. If she was meant to find them or something. Internally she laughed at herself for such ridiculous thoughts. Either way, she would find out more. He voice rose to meet them, a plain greeting, as was her nature to not be extravagant. "You look just as happy to be here in the heat as I! I'm Slaybell, what brings you out in the heat?" She was not a conversationalist, and her words felt awkward in her mouth, though maybe she didn't sound as awkward as she felt.
Small talk... add that to the list of useless things, next to summer. Her thoughts continued to ramble as she awaited a reply, the only distraction was the slightest of forgiving breezes that graced them from within the tree cover.
The daughter was not wrong in her complaints. Against the thickening fog, grasping at their legs like a ghost, the heat was choking. Uncomfortable was the least colorful word to describe it. It clung like a heavy blanket, the material anything but breathable. Cloaked in thick wool in a too hot room, made to suffer its closeness. A dampness clung to the misty silver of their coats, creating an illusion of glistening hair where the sun would break through the cover of trees lighting them in dappled sparkles. Despite the troublesome weather, it was a magical setting, preying on those that would be all too consumed with the majesty of it. Never mind that the two women were at their least lethal as they grazed in the copse of trees.
Potion chewed without much thought of her doing, awaiting an answer from the girl (Ecco would always be a young girl to her Dam). While she found the summer temperatures unpleasant, she made no qualms against them. Her words would do nothing to spare them from that which they could not control, irritating as it was. Actually, they had both now been exposed to an array of climates, first with the Cove. Bitter sea winds, cool shore breezes, the salty dryness of the hills that surrounded the cliffs. Soggy grasses that came from tempests that ravaged the beaches like clockwork, wet sand that squished and clung to the skin afterwards. Then there was the Valley, short a stay as it was, Potion recalled the dark shadows. She remembered the close quarters of the trees, the pressure of bodies within the copses and a trickle of annoyance met her features. The Mountain followed, cold and cool but in a different way altogether. Air that bit you was hard to get used to but they had managed- they had to.
This was nothing, this was bearable even, compared to some. Besides, those from the Cove, those of the lines of Khaos were not easily swayed by a little physical discomfort. There were those among their number that actually welcomed it, that asked for it. Potion had seen it all too many times, women trembling against her Father, panting, asking for more.
Ecco’s jaw set, coming to rest in a flat line across her face as her Mother’s words reached her ears. She took her time choosing her words. While she could be a mouthy brat, as much as the rest, she was not quick to disrespect her Dam- mostly she knew better, even while her Mother’s gifts were absent. The women had a mutual understanding of each other, an unspoken rule. It would have been too easy for them to destroy each other. For one to reduce the other to ash or a pile of decomposed matter to match the lichen against the Forest floor. “Less than some, more than most,” the silver girl finally offered. Before she could elaborate their twosome soon became a three, making a triangle in the woods, the two mares lifting their heads from the earth.
They exchanged a glance as the woman spoke up, chatting on comfortably for having run into two unknowns. She was unusual in a sense and not just for her bold chit chat. Her coat was green like the moss on the trees and her hair was vivid red like a cardinal sitting in its branches. Color specialty was nothing new, they had all graced the beaches with streaks of lavender, rich coats of plum. However it did not take away from her uniqueness and the two mares greeted her with an alert look, a swish of their tails and the perking of their ears as they rotated forward towards the noise. “It’s less favorable than most seasons, we do not favor it no,” Potion let on, letting the words touch the the breeze that glided past them all. “We’ve business to attend to, much the same as always,” she began, watching the colorful mare through liquid lavender eyes. Something was familiar, perhaps she had spotted her once or twice before.
“We’ve been called many things Slaybell (heathens, savages, degenerates) but one has just one true name if I’m not correct.” Oh was it not fun to dance around the subject for a moment? “I am Potion, this is Ecco. Tell me, what do you know of Kirin?” The question was nonchalant, one could not be sure that she was even interested in knowing the response.
dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
I guess when you father is a self-proclaimed “lord of christmas” then you tend to be a winter lover. IT was just ingrained in your blood, or bones...or whatever. It was why she had loved her little cave on top of the mountain that overlooked Valley, it was why she felt most comfortable in the blistering winds and crunchy snow. But isolating herself in the depths of the dark cave was no longer an option. Her mountain no longer existed and there was something about her time in the darkness that forced a need to be here, among others. It was odd, and she still wasn’t sure exactly how to explain the feeling. However she ended up explaining though, it was why she was in the forest, attempting to talk to the two ladies before her--which was going just swimmingly.
The two mares looked upon Slaybell like an anomaly. Their expressions like that of a pair of slack jawed buffoons in awe over something everyone else understood. Not to say they were idiots, but they looked at her like a fool as she yammered on, trying to be normal, which in fact made the christmas mare anything but. She shut her jaw tight, and instantly felt awkward. The two looked at eachother, then her and they definitely knew something that she did not. The bright red coat twitched in her own displeasure of how her plan backfired. But the other two didn’t allow her to dwell for more than a second before a reply was given. ”One true name?” What an odd response for the girl to give. Maybe she had been out on the summer heat for too long, maybe it wasn’t Slaybell that was odd but the two who stood before her.
But they answered her questions and eventually asked their own. Curiosity danced from them when it came to this Kirin character. ”Kirin?...it sounds vaguely familiar, like I heard it in a dream perhaps.” She had been in the Valley for a time around the war, and surely the name was one that had been tossed around. However, her time in the darkness had diminished her memories some. So while she remembers Kirins name she did not recall exactly what she had been told of the stallion. ”Why do you ask? Is he important? Or lost?” Slaybell peered out from under her green forelock at her company. Not so much innocent but inquisitive. Surely there was good reason for them to ask….
Winter doesn’t suit them no, even if they had weathered many tempest in their time. Chilly winds, shaggy hair, the found the entirety of it less than ideal.
They watch and they listen, allowing the red girl to answer. She did well enough chatting, surely coming up with a few responses would be nothing. Perhaps her liquid tongue would be useful to them in some way, Potion would have a think on it. Ecco on the other hand seemed restless, a twitch of her tail, the flutter of her cloudy ears on top of her skull. It was like she was waiting for something to happen, perhaps she was, she was so very focused on the ground at the moment- intent on what? Setting the grass on fire? Whatever she was expecting to occur never did, a silent sigh leaving her chest and her shoulders drooping.
Potion allowed a sideways smile, a crooked thing that didn’t seem quite happy, disappointment almost followed had she allowed it to linger over long on her lips.
Her own ears swiveled forward as the scarlet one began to speak again, then she chuckled. It would be fitting if her Father was indeed a dream, perhaps some wished he would be because it would mean all the things he had done were not real. Then again for others it would only add to the allure of fantasy and hummed to herself as she considered both of these things. Interesting perspective and all.
Is he important, or lost?
“Lost, no definitely not,” Ecco assured her in a rather matter of fact way. “He is important though yes, I would say so.” Nodding her gray head as she spoke, her lavender eyes full of amusement. It was obvious they had gained some interest on the topic from the green and red mare and that suited them just fine.
“Yes, he’s my Father you see,” Potion explained, though neither of them seemed to give too much information on the subject, just enough. “He’s planning a trip and we are just preparing for his arrival.” Oh yes, that was nicely put.
“We were actually going to go see him today, to see if he needs anything particular while he’s down.” The gray mare spoke as calmly and evenly as possible, “Would you like to come with us, we’d enjoy some more company.” Mmm yes, and so would Father.
dont you open up that window, dont you let out that antidote
