"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
02-17-2017, 02:57 PM (This post was last modified: 02-17-2017, 02:58 PM by Ashley.)
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ASHLEY
There is the moment in time when you realize that life for your is quite possibly over. For Ashley that moment was now. The ginger man was settling into a bad habit of eating his cake and eating it too. Within the crystal clear waters that made their way in, around, and under Ischia’s coast, he swam. The plague of Marlyn was constantly behind him, and he kicked back his crimson fins, forcing the water over his scales, pushing himself deeper and faster into the depths. Solace. Peace. He would get neither. Instead, what he was left with was the guilt and the nightmare of those eyes. Those sad soulful eyes looking at him, bidding him to say the words that refused to be uttered out loud. Instead, they fell like a lead balloon at his feet, like a ball and chain. He was prisoner in his own mind, and so he ran to the water to find his freedom. Freedom. Peace. They weren’t his for the taking. Ashley snorted at the thought, a burning sensation singing his nostrils with a curse—uttered underwater, it came out as nothing more than a masked blurble of bubbles. He swims on; the heaviness of his mind consuming him. Ashley had used her. His own angst had pulled him in the direction of anyone who would listen—any impressionable soul that he could take for his own. Marlyn had been there. And she’d been perfect. She was the one he could take—but he did not count on having those feelings. It had been meant for one night. Not for Keeps. Instead, he had given her his soul and left himself with nothing. And that tortured him. A former King, made a slave at a woman’s feet. And so he swims, with her ever on his mind. He figured that his child must have been born by now. But he has not been back. Why should he? How can he?
and the girls caressed me down ughhh that's that lovin' sound
All of it has slowly been washed away with the gentle caress of the tides. The spotted woman had grown fat in his absence. She had quietly suffered, the pain and contractions, alone in the darkness with only the pale moon to comfort her as she lay on the salty shores of Ischia.
The mare, so bold, had believed she could find the ginger man but in the midst of that night, a small spotted boy lay at her side as the ocean's water gentle licked at his heels, small head raised silently as he wobbled to understand the very actions of his birth.
Time passes willingly and unwillingly. The mare had remained in Ischia amongst the jungle and wildlings with her buckskin son. Dark eyes watch him grow strong like his father, beautiful and untouchable, the essence of their union. But in time, her faith is lost in the red man. He is gone, surely moved on to the next little pet to tease and toy with but in the end, Marlyn is better off. The boy, named Porter is growing more handsome and smart every day. Marlyn has learned he possess something very special.
Beqanna works in mysterious ways.
On this day, dark eyes watch as the boy learns to breathe beneath the water's surface. He is scared, golden amber eyes large and white ringed. His mother coos to calm him as she breathes slowly, speaking gently as she hold him with her mind to ease his discomfort and willing to bring him to the surface at a moment's notice. "In and out, Porter, in and out." He understands and trusts her and leaps without looking. At first he chokes and coughs before his body naturally begins to function as he is intended. Sea life scurry from the pair as the horses remain below the currents.
Marlyn smiles wide and proud at her spotted boy. The sunlight ripples across them as the water laps gentle by the breeze. The darkness of Marlyn's mane extends like a banner as her child gains confidence in his abilities, smiling and laughing in a bellow of bubbles, but something catches his attention and he looks past his mother to see a creature drifting along the waters. "Hello?" The young boy's voice asks within the mind of the other. It had not taken long for Porter to discover his ability to speak with marine life. Marlyn twists her head over her shoulder to catch sight of a flashing red beast. What animal dared to happen upon the mare and her child now?
There was a splash, and a greeting. Here, at the bottom of the sea, it seems that even the ginger King cannot escape his nightmares.
For it seemed here, under the water, was a small child who looks exactly like Marlyn. He choked back a curse and lept out of the water. With a thrust that sent saltwater spraying everywhere, Ashley’s body transformed seamlessly back into horse, and he stared at Marlyn. His visage was not at all kind—though in his head, he is both exhilarated and happy to see her. How had she been? What was the pregnancy like? What had he missed? Had she been in pain? Was Porter a good baby? Growing well?
These questions plagued him, and then the pain of his own inadequacy washed over him again, and he swallowed his pangs of guilt as his dark mood settled upon his features, and he took on a stony expression. “You have made your way here to my beaches. What has brought you here? Looking to present the boy to me?”
His heart was thudding. But he does not know how to relay what he feels. His sins do not allow him the luxury of a happy ending.
Better to push her away and save herself the trouble of being saddled with him.
Even if it killed him.
and the girls caressed me down ughhh that's that lovin' sound
She should have known from the moment the sea water soaked into the sand from her hooves that she was rooted. Dark eyes watch as the familiar sight of Ashley is once more before her, on land, and dripping like a sorry sot. A calm quiet fills the space between them as she drudges back to the land where sea and sand meet, the spotted child doing all but tripping in her wake. "Mummy!" Porter calls excitedly as Marlyn halts not far from the only stallion she has ever shared a bed with. The boy is not so reserved. Inky black locks fall over his amber gold eyes as he smiles at his mother, his young form graceful and strong, but he stops just ahead as he peers up at the red man when the word 'son' falls from the old king's lips.
If Marlyn had been human, a hand would have gone to her brow as she shook her head in exasperation. "Dammit, Ashley-" the mare mutters softly as Porter cocks his head curiously. He is not a stupid child and can easily manage the words the adults are saying. Marlyn forces herself to look to the male with tears welling in her eyes out of the anger, the sadness, the hurt that she had felt. "I have nothing to present." She speaks coolly as she fights to keep her voice even, the crack of tears just far enough suppressed that it would not spill the wetness in her eyes. "But if you should care to know...this is Porter...our son."
The child looks from his mother to the stallion, a smile tangling across his boyish feature. The child had long since knew his father was on the island. Marlyn would not rob him of that truth but she would tell the boy stories of how Ashley was away on daring adventures in which to entertain and keep the boy's image of his father one of excitement and heroism. The young spotted child steps a slim leg closer with his honey eyes large and innocent, curious of the man. "Hello," he says softly with a shy smile. Marlyn watches closely for Ashely's reaction, quick to protect the child from anything that could happen should it not have her approval.
The small spotted ginger child stepped forward. So matter of fact—like his mother. Hello he says, not surprised in the least, or even in awe at what manner of man his father was. Marlyn must have told Porter all about him. Good then. He would not have to introduce himself. For the moment, the tumultuous thoughts of the old king are forgotten, and he lays down in the sand, clearing his eyes and widening his nostrils, blowing the warm scent of recognition over the small fish friend, and he smiles; relaxing for the first time in six months.
“Hello, my son.” he caresses the boy fondly, flicking his tail upward, raining bubbles of salt water over them both in a splash. The droplets shimmered in the sun, and then turned into small water shaped sea horses—much like what Marlyn had looked like the first time he had met her. Porter giggles in the way that small children do, and Ashley finds himself chuckling—deep base tones in spite of himself. Marlyn is, for the time, forgotten.
Of course, he can feel her. He could always feel her. But with her eyes on their son, he finds he is able to quiet his mind of his fears, and simply be. Maybe. Maybe he could do this. Be a father. Be a lover. Be a…
What is more than a lover?
No. That will come later.
Right now, he is a man, playing in the sand with his son.
The rest will keep.
and the girls caressed me down ughhh that's that lovin' sound
