"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
Author's note: bear with me, guys. I haven't written in so long, and I am a scatterbrained mess. Forgive me.
--
The slip of time. A curious thing. A lifetime on earth compared to decades in the world beyond. The two only kept alike by the image of the man with whom her heart laid. And yet to think that in all that time, never once had her consciousness truly twinkled out. Like a dying star, the skin-bare creature collapsed in on herself. An existence not genuinely ever extinguished, simply transformed. The moments of quiet between music notes, but the knowledge that music again shall be played. Her heart, though burrowed deep within the confines of the beach, would never cease its beating; though the seasons change, and the decades fall away like leaves from the turning trees, Scorch would always be present.
Her mortal being materialized quietly, one autumn dusk. The scarred figure of a burly mare, hairless, rat-like, hideous to the point of humour, followed by fear, appeared strewn between the densely packed trees of the forest. Fitting, that this should be the place Fate places her, among what most resembled her past kingdom. Fitting...
Memories, thoughts, questions, worries, hopes, dreams; they raced behind her dragon eyes, which now took on an emerald shade. What of the Jungle, with whom she left Lagertha in charge? What of her children, of her many children? She hadn't met any of them upon the beach, but the beach stretched wide, and eternity offered little in the way of answers.
Nothing was the same anymore; she could taste it. The wind did not smell of the eight kingdoms; not of Khaleesi's and bachelor kings, nor of the Deserts, Dale, or Valley; the Chamber, Gates, and Falls she missed as well. The cracks in her nostrils burned, having been reopened with her desperate attempts at placing herself within this entangled, upside-down Beqanna.
You've got this, darling. We knew it wouldn't be the same. Deep breaths now; ti amo, il mio fuoco.
Her breathing came more steadily, the heart she no longer held between her ribs slowing its beating. To hear his unearthly voice was enough to calm any emotion she might feel, now or ever. They would always be together, of that she had no doubt at all. Indeed, the sacrifice of her fertility was not a sacrifice at all; for it was only he who she yearned for, and only he who loved her completely.
With a heave of her once powerful legs, Scorch found herself standing, thigh deep in grass, without a clue as to where she was, or where she could possibly go.
OOC: Pleeeeeease only respond with characters who know Scorch, or know of Scorch. Thanks!
While the coast had grown on her (it’s beaches and salty air worming it’s way into her fractured heart) she still wanders off occasionally, seeking the deep greenery of the forest. It was a sad excuse of a reminder, nothing would ever compare to the jungle that had once been. It lacked it’s humidity, it’s tropical fauna and creatures. So why did she still come? Perhaps, deep in her gut, she thinks that maybe the jungle will reappear again. Just a hint of what had once been would be enough of a sign.
Once a Khaleesi, always a Khaleesi. Although the crown had been dropped so long ago, it was a feeling that stayed with you for life. It could be hard to bend the knee to others, to watch them rule a kingdom and not have a say. Whatever mistakes she had made in her youth (for she had been so young when she had risen and yet created a legacy of the Khaleesi that lasted till the day the Amazons were swallowed) had nearly been forgotten with time. She was older, wiser, having learnt the burden of those heavy lessons. Although the desire to rule no longer flickered within her, she still burned with a desire to find her place in the world again.
Dark hooves crunch lightly over dried needles, her dappled fur catching in the pale light that manages to find it’s way past the trees. Golden eyes bright and alluring, taking in the deep earthy scent of the soil, the sharp aroma of pine. There's a sudden movement to her right, something furless but large seeming to come off the ground. Curiosity moves her towards it, a slight ruffle of ebony wings as she settles them tightly to her sides.
At first she think’s its a large rodent, perhaps burned by a forest fire. It takes her a moment to realize exactly what she’s looking at. This can’t be… A memory comes back to her, of a dying Scorch that they had taken to the healing waters of the Falls. Of a child that had been tucked under her wing, of another that the pain stricken mother begged for, disillusioned. Although the situation is surprising and unexpected, somehow her voice remains as calm and strong as it always has.
”I thought you were dead.”
Liz had yet to realize just how many came crawling back from the Afterlife if given a second of a chance.
The roan woman has seen much in her life (both so short and incredibly long, an oddity in a world of oddities), but even she can occasionally be surprised. That the dead rise comes as no surprise. It has been known to occur more than once in this land. Often enough that it does not inspire great comment (even if it has occasionally caused some chagrin).
What does draw her however, is the particular horse who rises.
Of the many things Heartfire could be accused of, negligence is not one of them. It should come as no surprise then, that she had thoroughly investigated her own lineage. Her unique talents lend themselves perfectly to such endeavors, and she had certainly taken advantage. As a result, the history of both her grandparents and the Amazons is well known to her. Perhaps she has never had the opportunity to see it in living action, but she had the next best thing. And this… this is an opportunity she would never pass up.
Her footsteps are muffled against the leaf litter of the forest floor, dappled light dancing across her mottled skin as she wends her way through trees and low brush. She finds the pair of horses easily enough, the jaguar mare having so recently stumbled upon the hairless woman just rising from the ground. It seems she and Tantalize are destined to be in the same place at the same time with some frequency. Not that she particularly minds. She rather likes the woman.
However, that particular former Khaleesi is not who she had come to see. Stepping from her cover amidst the shifting leaves of the forest, her gaze, vibrantly blue and boldly curious, settles upon the odd woman standing upon new legs in the midst of the small clearing.
“Well, I must say this is something of a surprise,” she offers by way of greeting. Her lithe frame shifts closer, one brow lifting slightly as she studies Scorch with undisguised interest. “Hello, Grandmother.”
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
08-25-2017, 10:40 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2018, 12:49 AM by Scorch.)
WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
The memory of her past self, of her first incarnation, left a bitter taste in Scorch's mouth - though sweetness could be deciphered, too. Sometimes, it all seemed too much to reflect upon; indeed, as she had stood next to Hestoni upon the listless sands of the beach, she had simply allowed herself to forget. To watch the waves in an utter trance, hearing only the breathing of her lover, and knowing only the comfort it brought.
For now, however, she was without that comfort. And the memories were irrepressible.
Her mind's eye skittered, without chronology, from one life event to the next. The angry, iron fist of her youth, crawling its way to the top at the expense of anything. Growing up under the shadow of Echion, and knowing only the coldness of that "mother." Feeling nothing but the undying need to make her proud, to do her legacy justice. The dragon dream, and losing what little there was in way of her beauty. Meeting Hestoni in the meadow, how he saw past the vicious, biting scars and wrinkled, hairless skin. Fighting herself in yet another dream, and taking on the manipulation of twilight. Birthing her many children, her relative harem; and coming to love them, in her own way. The power struggle with Lagertha, and the endless exchanges of cruelty therein. The befriending of Kagerou - oh, Kagerou... I'm right here, sister. You needn't worry. Go on.... And Malka, and Brunhilde. The gaining of the thrown, and the ruling of the Jungle as the fire-clad Khaleesi. Her attempt at building an empire, and the failure of that enterprise, which ultimately brought about her demise. And Volcan... Her long lost child.
Indeed, her questions were many; but her memories were far more.
Scorch's dragon eyes fixed themselves on two far off figures - one familiar, adorned with wings, and the other not. Eyelids flickering from heat vision to night vision - as the dusk was quickly giving up its fight to the dark hours - Scorch attempted to place the familiar shape. Yet it was not until the mare appeared between the boughs and branches of the dense forest that Scorch could place her; Tantalize. The mare who had taken her last child, Vi, and sworn to try and find the missing twin. So long ago; and by the unexcited nature of the woman, without any good news. Ah, well. A wry smile slipped to her lips despite that realization; time would tell.
"You thought correctly, Liz. I simply happen to... Not be, any more." She inclined her head, humour glimmering in her eyes. What a thrill, to be among the living once again! What a rush.
The second figure approached, and Scorch turned her piercing gaze upon the girl. Lithe, blue, splattered; the roaning as apparent as it once had been upon her own skin. She flared her nostrils, attempting to drag out some secret scent that might reveal the identity of this stranger; but the secrets would reveal themselves, it seemed. Scorch raised her brows in a small show of shock, if not scorn.
"Surprise, indeed. Which one of my brood do you happen to be borne of? You couldn't blame me for not knowing. The brats were endless." A forehoof lifted, pawing the ground, venting the energy and excitement the mare felt. So many questions. Why weren't they answering them, all at once?
Always the impatient one, Sco. Give it a sec, babe.
Snorting at his comment, she allowed her hoof to fall and be silent.
"So. What the fuck have I missed? Being dead is a time consuming task."
It shouldn’t surprise her when Heartfire appears. She has a knack of doing that, finding the right place at the right time. It’s becoming more apparent that somehow their lives were tied within each other, perhaps the future had plans for them yet. When she greets the wrinkled hairless mare as grandmother, that curious faint smile flickers on her once taunt lips. Why does it not surprise her that these two are related?
It hadn’t been long before she had disappeared, again, from the jungle and therefore lost her connection with the sisters and with Vi. She had tried her best but raising children, even her own, had never been her strong suit. Not to mention that the jungle had shifted for her, it had never been the same since that day she had let her enemies get the best of her. The day she had given up her kingdom.
Golden eyes glint in the dim light as Scorch speaks, interested despite herself. ”I would love to hear how, I’m sure it’s quite a story.” Coming back from the dead would be quite the feat and not a simple one at that. Perhaps Scorch had more power then she had realized. ”I don’t know what happened to your daughter.” It was best to be blunt and rip off the bandaid as quickly as possible. She is unapologetic in her statement although the corner of her mouth tugs down ever so slightly.
It’s not the worst news she has to share. Of course Scorch, fresh from death, would be oblivious to the huge changes of this new world. As one Khaleesi to another, it would be a bitter pill to swallow. ”Beqanna has… Changed. The lands were torn apart and remade.” For the first time there is some hint of remorse, sadness, loss? It’s hard to tell. ”The Amazons are no more, the jungle is lost.”
She falls quiet to let this news sink in before looking at Heartfire to see what she made of all this.
To the hairless woman, this new world must be almost entirely unrecognizable. So much had changed in the years since her death. To attempt to catch up on such history would be a daunting task for nearly anyone. Even Heartfire would struggle to do so, though she certainly could. Indeed, she might even be able to make it a bit easier for her grandmother to apprise herself of the events of the Reckoning.
Assuming she wished to, of course.
Heartfire is fully aware of the events that had lead to Scorch’s death. She even knows what had happened to her children. Perhaps she had never met them in person, but it would a mistake to believe her ignorant. Or uncaring, despite the touch of ice in her demeanor and the unreadable blue gaze. Her immediate family might be her first concern, but she has enough care for her extended family to ensure they are well. She might choose not to interfere, but that does not mean she is ignorant.
A fact so many seem to so easily forget.
Tilting her head slightly, a faint smile touches her lips at the rather irreverent question. Whatever the woman might say, she knows she had a care for her children. “Shahrizai,” she says simply before her smile broadens slightly, a hint of humor flitting across her features. “I’d advise you brace yourself however. It seems my parents are determined to outdo even you in the offspring department.”
Her blue gaze flicks briefly to Tantalize, considering the woman’s admission before turning back to her grandmother. She remains silent for a long moment before adding, “Your children are well enough. All of them.” Alive at the very least, though she is uncertain if that would put the woman’s heart at ease.
Tantalize, in her blunt way, reveals the fall of the Amazons (though Heartfire cannot fault her. She likely would have been equally blunt). She doesn’t respond immediately, instead fixing her bright gaze upon Scorch in quiet consideration. She could just imagine how the woman might respond to the news, but whatever the case, it should prove interesting. After a lengthy pause however, Heartfire adds softly, “I can show you. It might be a quicker way to catch up on what has happened.” A corner of her lips quirk slightly, a wry expression, before she adds. “That is, if you don’t mind seeing such an unpleasant business first hand.”
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
Resurrections were messy things. Scorch had two specific memories about such events, though she my have been able t recall more if pressed. The first event was incredibly personal, and a great mountain of turmoil for the mare. When she was fresh from the dragon dream, Scorch had went back to the Jungle. What greeted her there truly did shape the rest of her life. Echion, dying at the hooves of her true daughter, Tivona, and her son, Rharian. It was made clear to Scorch that she had been a fraudulent child - and yet, the only child Echion birthed that ever achieved the Amazonian throne, in an attempt to meet her standards.
After Echion's passing, Scorch knew she couldn't live without a reconciliation. Her newfound lover, Hestoni, had gone behind her back and made a pact with the devil, Carnage. He would be Carnage's slave for eternity, if only Echion could have one day back on this earth, to speak to Scorch, and her other close ones. The encounter was, indeed, reconciling. But the short visit compared to her lover's eternal suffering seemed, in the end, an unfix-able mistake. She never found out how Hestoni managed to escape his damnation - or, if she had, she had long since repressed the memory of his attempted suicide, and ultimately, his murder of another living, breathing creature.
Funnily enough, her other encounter involved her own grandmother, Nera; that reincarnation happened to be far more docile, but that wasn't enough to temper Scorch's feelings regarding them.
"Honest to the Gods, Liz, if I could tell you what happened with conviction, I would." Her eyes, flickering yellow, glanced to Heartfire, extending the statement to her, too. (Could I use any more commas?) "But as it is, all I seem to be able to recall at the moment is my nephew, Nihlus. The only connection I can draw between that memory of him, and my being here now, is that he could project himself into the world of the dead." Her hammer head drifted from side to side in a woeful shake. "I'll be sure to tell you, if more comes to me."
At Liz's next statement, Scorch simply nodded. A knot had dwelt in the crook of her throat ever since the loss of her youngest child, and without any news as to her whereabouts or her well being, the effort required to speak of it was at too great a cost for such little reward. Scorch held nothing against the woman; surely, she had done her best.
Her companion's next words knock the breath from Scorch's lungs, her heartbeat slamming into her ears as thoughts raced but would not come into reality. She knew the air had smelled different; but for the whole of Beqanna to be completely, utterly remade? It brought bile to her lips.
"Wha... Our home? It's... Gone?" Scorch's eyes unfocused, becoming completely blank. Her refuge, her kingdom, her shoulder to cry on. Gone. Fucking obliterated. Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't stop them. The shock of grief was a burden even the strongest would bend under - and she was far from being among that rank. Anger heated the salty drops, and she knew that for as long as she remained sentient, that fire would not die. She would stand in memory of the Jungle for as long as time itself allowed. Her ears pinned back; yes, she would uphold its name, and preach its verses to all who came across her. She wouldn't let the Jungle be forgotten. Not after a life spent devoted to it.
She refocused her eyes, steadying her breath. "I'm sorry, sister." Scorch lent an only too understanding look to Tantalize, her predecessor on the Jungle throne. It was a look of bitter fury, and hopelessness. Then she looked to Heartfire. "Not sure you would understand, kid, but..." She tossed her neck back and forth, though she hadn't a mane to flap about. "But you're lucky you don't." She sucked in air quickly, through her teeth, cutting her lungs like a knife. "I'll... I don't know what I'll do. But I fucking am going to do what I decide to do in great anger and violence. Fuck."
But her distress was cast to the side for the time being as Heartfire took up the narrative. Scorch tossed aside the scowl she had been sporting for something that looked like a grimace, but was in fact, a smile.
"The boy always was a momma's boy; reminded me so much of me, in a very soft, lovely way. I guess he sort of missed the need for power as a whole, and focused on the babies right off." Her mind's eye recalled Echion, and the terrible ways that woman's coldness had made her feel, until this very day; and she knew she could not also hold that silence. "And if that is so, then I am glad. I can't say I dislike you quite yet, though not knowing your name has certainly put a kink in my attempt at familial love towards you." Que smile widening.
At the girl's offer of true clarity, Scorch considered. Balked, really. Was she already ready to view such hardship, as hardship it must of been? She was barely twenty minutes out of eternity's ass crack, gods damnit. But what good would waiting do? And how, in this directionless, upside down tomfuckery of a world, would she function, without knowing the ins and outs of Beqanna's undoing?
Wisps of shadows pooled around the rat woman's ankle as she thought. Arms of darkness cascaded up her knees and blossomed forth on her breast, shielding her nakedness as she decided between the safety of ignorance, and the vulnerability of knowledge. The manipulation was subconscious - almost a reflection of her inner thoughts. As she came to, she cast the meaningless shades away, once more sure of herself. For now. True self assuredness would be fleeting from here on in, Scorch felt. Everything was different.
"Show me. Please."
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
HELLO, AND WELCOME BACK TO, SID WRITES NOVELS AND RESPONDS LINE BY LINE INSTEAD OF CHRONOLOGICALLY, AND ALSO, HER "SPELLCHECKS" ARE LAZY AND NOT EFFECTIVE. with love. ^_^
It’s not a thought to ask Scorch what she had seen in the Afterlife. It’s not as if she would have known anyone that Liz had lost through the years, Scorch having come into Liz’s life long after most of the life changing events had happened to her. It’s not a thought to ask about her father. The red eyed stallion wandering the lands unbeknownst to her, remembering nothing of his former life or his escape from purgatory. The subject is interesting enough though that she would like to know more about it, if Scorch is able to recall. It wasn’t a bad thought, crossing into the afterworld and kicking Lion’s ass once and for all.
She was bracing herself for Scorch’s reaction to her children, to the lost jungle. It’s not surprising to her that the hairless mare is far more crushed by the loss of the Amazons. To be fair, she had felt quite the same way. Since Lion had destroyed her life, she kept her feelings mostly to herself. Suppressed deep within her, guarded and concealed. Scorch was quite the opposite, wearing her loss on her sleeve.
However she feels for the mare, that same turmoil and grief that curdles in her belly. Her golden eyes reflect Scorch’s grief although they stay dry and hard. A thin line purses across her lips as she extends her muzzle, as if to placate Scorch in her grief. I’m sorry sister. ”As am I.” Truthful rough words, understand each other completely if only for a moment. Scorch turns to her descendant, declaring her anger and Liz can’t help but thinly smile. Somethings never change.
”I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” She had never been comfortable with family reunions, it was not her place to stay. ”I’m sure I’ll see you soon regardless, seeing how she brought me to Nerine.” Gesturing to Heartfire, assuming that the former Khaleesi would end up there now that the two had found each other. Pausing for a moment. ”It’s good to see you again.”
It can be a difficult thing to put history into perspective, especially when one has lived it. For one who has not lived it, it might seem almost a story only. Not quite alive and real as once it had been. Heartfire though, has a distinctively unique perspective when it comes to how one might view such things. Even the history she has lived and survived is far broader in scope than might be true of the average horse.
For these women, the loss of the jungle had been paramount, though in truth it had only been a fraction of the full tapestry. Only a portion of the awesome display of power and change and destruction that had rippled across the land. One small piece in a much larger puzzle.
Contrary to popular belief however, Heartfire could understand such loss. The youth of her body is deceptive, hiding a soul far too ancient for its vessel. Though that is a story for another time, she can fully sympathize with how the former queen feels upon hearing of the fall of her kingdom. Blue eyes darken as she watches the sudden blow ripple through the other woman’s larger frame. Not a physical one, but a mental one perhaps far more powerful than any physical strike could ever be. She hesitates for a moment before softly murmuring, “I was a queen, once.”
She does not elaborate, but the weight of the words fill her tone, her entire body, with the heaviness of their implication. She had spent decades upon a throne with a man she loved, only to have it taken from her in the blink of an eye. She could well and truly comprehend even if she could not quite find the words to say. Words were not needed here anyway.
The mention of her father seems to brighten Scorch though, and the woman’s wry comment brings a faintly amused smile to her dark lips. No, her father certainly had not inherited his mother’s lust for power. It is a trait that seems to have instead skipped a generation. The woman’s next comment only serves to broaden the smile, and after a moment she simply answers, “Heartfire.”
Her father had named her, his firstborn daughter, after his mother. An irony that is not lost on her.
Her gaze shifts briefly to the jaguar woman as she takes her leave, offering a slight dip of her head in acknowledgement. She would no doubt see the woman again soon enough. They do seem to have a habit of crossing paths quite regularly.
When her blue eyes turn back to Scorch, her request lingering in the air, a faint frown tugs at her lips. Not an expression directed at the hairless woman, but rather one of thoughtful concentration. After a lengthy hesitation, she warns, “This will no doubt be disorienting. Give it a moment. It will pass,” before drawing upon her grandmother’s sight.
With an ease born of practice, she directs Scorch’s sight, giving her an abbreviated, bird’s-eye view of the events that had occurred through the Reckoning. Months blurring by only to land briefly upon those moments in time integral to the rise and fall of the lands, new and old, until, finally they have reached present day. Only then does Heartfire release Scorch’s sight into her own control once more.
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
Let me know if you want me to change anything <333
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