"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
05-15-2018, 01:51 AM (This post was last modified: 05-22-2018, 01:18 PM by Scorch.)
WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
Her words rang surreal as they stood, contemplating the Nerinian shoreline. I give it to you Scorch, you believed in me, you saw the same future same as I did. And it’s here; because of you it is here. I live in the past Scorch, my place is there, I would only ruin what we’ve started. My work, it is finished, I’ve done what I promised. Find someone like us, someone to keep this. A smile spread her lips, too peaceful and genuine, an expression that Scorch hadn't glimpsed since their very first reunion just after her impromptu coronation. It would seem that impromptu coronations have become something of a tradition for the remnant of the 'Zons; but as her friend leaned into her embrace and shared a final look of unspoken significance with her, Scorch could find only love and hope for Hestia's journey into the oblivion.
You don't have to watch, Scorch. It's voice sent a chill down her spine, but steeled herself. The demon was hers to watch after now; she needed to set her differences aside. I know. She offered no more of an explanation to the telepathic thing as she watched with tear-wet eyes as her friend was taken by the flames, much as she had been decades ago. Except that, even as the waves lapped at her hooves, Hestia stepped not into the life-giving waters; unlike Scorch, she allowed the darkness to come, its harbinger the crackle of the flames. Her stomach turned; her tears fell; and in the end, her friend was no more.
Rest well, Sister.
--
It broke the silence of their mourning far sooner than she'd have hoped; and though she hadn't moved an inch since Hestia's passing, her muscles ache with a bone-tiredness that she'd forgotten comes with the duty of ruling a kingdom. Heavily, she opened her molten red-yellow eyes, looking down to the demon as his words buffered in her grief-stricken brain. She's with me now. Safe. Happy. Despite the emotionless tone, the words it chose to describe its reunion with Hestia betrayed their intimate relationship; and despite the alienness of it all, Scorch found herself nodding and settling into the groove of this new, emptier land. Loss was an experience she knew profoundly - but it did not make it any easier to deal with as each grave dug deeper into the profoundness of her understanding.
Speaking of which... It's voice came again, simply, but with many implications. Help me understand.
Scorch sighed, answering back wordlessly. The land we stand on was once generous with its spirit, lending itself to residents with the person-ability that perhaps surpasses even your own abilities. Her eyes were dull as she spoke in her mind, but a little twitch of the demon's scarred nostril made even the rat smile in this dim hour. So it could be teased. Beqanna scorned us for taking advantage of her, however, and now we tread through what has essentially become a skeleton. The foundation of our home is here - but the guts, the blood, the heart of what makes it home are gone. I don't know if you can understand, but - I hope I helped.
The creature nodded slowly, unsure of this worldly gesture, but learning regardless. It wanted to help - and considering that it could easily go and help the evil kingdoms, the kingdoms it was truly aligned with, well, she wouldn't turn it away. Feeling sentimental, she reached across the distance between them, and carefully pressed a breath to the hollow where Oblivion's eye ought to have been. She wanted to say something - but she didn't know what.
--
Her call rang out across Nerine, summoning them to the clearing before the oak tree where she'd first rejoined the Amazons - no, came it's voice. The Leviathons now. The demon didn't need to say it, but it wouldn't let what progress Hestia had made be erased because of Scorch's foolhardy dedication to the ways of old.
That's why she couldn't stay in this position forever - indeed, not even for very long.
They trickled to her slowly, as women often do - but upon seeing Scorch's sullen gaze, as well as the resident demon by her side instead of by Hestia's, their ambivalence faded, replaced in turn by an anxious curiosity. Though she nodded to some, no words were exchanged until as many as she could hope to count on arrived; still, she mourned the death of her would-be soul mate.
Just as she inhaled to begin, another presence wafted to the side unoccupied by Oblivion. Blinking, the mutilated mare found herself smiling despite it all into the eyes of her husband, publicly leaning into him for support for all to see. She was no longer the Khaleesi of the Amazons; for this brief period, she was Queen of the Leviathans; and this Queen gave no fucking shits about what you thought of her goddamn marriage.
Ahem.
"Sisters," She began, her voice raised despite its hoarseness. "Leviathans," She began again, smiling grimly; Oblivion's forked tail stopped prodding her at the correction. "Queen Hestia has passed from this world onto the next, at least for the time being. As my daughter once used to say, death is truly no separation." Though not everyone could know, most of the faces gathered might smile ruefully upon remember Scorch's own demise a lifetime ago. As an immortal, she felt intimately that she would see Hestia again - and if not that, she knew that as soon as Hestia was ready, they would have seance-conversations more than they'd ever had real alive ones.
Inhale; exhale. "It was her dying wish that I assume the Nerinian throne until such time that a suitable heir can, in turn, replace me." Her eyes scanned across the crowd, finding faces of varying ranges of familiarity amidst it. "And I have accepted this duty. For those of you who do not know, I lead the Amazons of Old, not many generations before the Reckoning; Nerine is my homeland now, as she who remembers that Jungle kingdom, and it will be an eternity that I spend in service to her. Right now, that service is as leader."
"However, I think we can all agree that keeping me in this position will only drag us into the past, further rooting us in a spot that has become vastly outdated and overgrown with unplucked weeds. " Poetic, Oblivion stated dryly - except that everything he said was dry. Scorch flicked an ear at the nuisance but did not stutter. "This is why I have chosen Wishbone as heir to the Nerinian throne." A small hush of confused chatter broke out among her people (strange, that she should have her own people again all these decades later), and she allowed it to go on for some time before interrupting; she may not be ruler for long, but she knew that they respected her all the same.
"Although some might feel themselves worthwhile candidates for the position of heir, I have had time to think on it. As evil rises in Beqanna, we must create a united front to oppose it. Connected with Ischia as we are, we are the strongest force that the darkness shall have to reckon with - but I have been around for many years, and there can never be enough unifying and growing of strength. By placing Wishbone atop the throne, Tephra shall become to us nearly as we are to Ischia."
"We will not be Tephra's sub kingdom." This, she said loudly, forcefully, and without any hesitation; the steel of her spine reflected in the glint of her hard, glaring eyes. "Wishbone came of her own volition as a child of willingness to learn, not as a child of Tephra. Since then she has been training to embody the Leviathan ideology: we did; we can; we will." She paused, allowing the weight of her words to sink into each of their skins. "And we will, my Sisters; yes, we will."
"Until she is determined to be ready for the throne, I will continue as Queen of the Leviathans. I know that this whole thing is shocking, and that some of you will be angry, and opposed to that which has been decided. But know that I have thought, long and hard. You are welcome to voice your opinions - but do not let grief or envy or greed colour your tongues."
"And lastly, although it isn't what you want to hear, we will have to alert the other kingdoms of the change. I will need volunteers to do this. I will travel alone to meet with Brennen; and I will take Porcia with me to tell Warrick." Her eyes traveled to her new friend, not having forgotten the promise she'd made to her before everything went to shit. "Otherwise, anyone is welcome to travel anywhere - except Sylva. Unless there are warriors willing to place themselves in that land, I see no reason to keep our enemies informed of our internal affairs."
With that, she stepped back, allowing them room to come forward and speak. A dull ache hammered away in her head, and she couldn't help but groan internally at herself for begging so stupidly to return to the throne. She was old, and tired, and frankly, more horny than she was interested in politics. Excuse me? Grinning at Oblivion, and for once not minding his mind-reading, Scorch once again leaned into Hestoni, hoping against hope that she wouldn't have too much of a fire to put out with her people.
Her people.
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
Well, Scorch is back! Here's my novel. Please respond IC if you have an opinion to express/reaction to have. Otherwise you are welcome to reply OOC to volunteer to visit other kingdoms. This is not an activity check (but if you are new you are welcome to say so, and I'll add you to the boards).
-Sid
Tephra: Scorch, Portia
Ischia: Scorch
Sylva: (see above before enlisting) Hestoni + ?
Loess: @[Bristol] @[traton] - remember ladies, we are enemies with Loess now. Give only information and try to gain as much as you can from them. Do not be hostile or provoke them; just get in and out. Do not agree to a treaty if one is presented - say that you must return to me so that I can consider the offer. Good luck.
Hyaline: Wishbone, Breckin, Tahti
She is nearing the end of her pregnancy, her stomach was huge and she was always uncomfortable. She had no idea she was carrying twins, and the thought has never ran through her mind. She tended to stay in Nerine these days, it was easiest to stay close to home rather than venturing out. Although her silence is broken by the call of another, as she zones in it is Scorch who is calling out. Porcia quickly moves closer to find Scorch, and when she does the mares face is serious, she was calling a kingdom meeting.
Porcia was quickly confused, where was Hestia? She did not question it though and just fell amongst the others awaiting the announcement. Scorch jumped right into it, blunt as could be she announces the death of Hestia. Her heart almost jumps out of her chest, she holds back the tears that swelled up. Her mother figure was gone? She did not even get to introduce her to Rome, to tell her about the child she was growing. She had not seen the mare since Eros asked to be in the kingdom, her heart aches and she had so many questions but could not find a voice.
She remains silent as Scorch announces she is now the Queen of Nerine, and she had no objections. But she continues on how she has chosen a Heir for the kingdom. Wishbone, a child she had never met who lives in Tephra. She also announced that Porcia would be accompanying her to Tephra and she nods in acknowledgement, listening as she noted the other kingdoms should be spoken to. Porcia looks out to see who inquires about the visits, who else was trying to become more active in a diplomatic role.
Tell Me Your Fate
OOC: sorry just something to place Porcia here! ^^
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
She had been watching a pod of killer whales off the coast when Scorch approached her. Their tall dorsal fins had been rising out of the water like dark, slick flags to announce their arrival to a land-liver’s eye. The killer whales had been a new species of whale for Wishbone to spot — Tephra’s waters were too warm for them — and she found that the might of the predatory cetacean appealed to the wilderness in her heart. They’d breached several times before Scorch’s arrival, black-and-white bodies lifting mostly out of the chilly waves before heavily slapping back down. The sound of the splash reached her ears above the rush of the wind and surf.
Scorch’s voice had also lifted above the common melody of Nerine’s landscape — first to announce Queen Hestia’s death (though in Beqanna deaths never seem to be final) and then the burnt mare’s own ascension to the throne. Wishbone had felt an ache in her chest at the thought of Hestia’s absence, though she didn’t know the dark mare very well. When she had met her, the Queen had been distant and dreamy, staring over the side of the granite cliff like the angry waves below held all the answers to her questions.
The following news from her mentor’s charred lips brought a wave of varying emotions that Wishbone still rides on as she waits for the Leviathans to gather. She stands close to Scorch, just on the other side of Oblivion, with her heart beating faster than any race or swim or mountain-climb could grant her. While her time in Nerine had initially meant an alliance between Tephra and the northern kingdom (and a learning opportunity for Wishbone), it was turning into much more.
Wishbone’s immediate thoughts are to tell Warrick and Wound, in Tephra, but the long trip down to her homeland would have to wait. The kingdom would have to learn of Queen Hestia and, now, Queen Scorch. The young woman’s amber eyes scan those who gather, mentally noting those of which she isn’t familiar with. While Wishbone has much to learn, she’s seen her father rule firsthand. If there’s anyone the mahogany wishes to mimic her leadership like, it is the warm and generous Overseer of Tephra.
She’s aware of her young age and how it might bother the Leviathans. Wishbone is a breath away from two years of age (she is crafted with long legs and a slender body like her mother, lithe muscle beginning to line the curves of her body from her trainings with Scorch) and much less wise than the older members of Nerine. But that doesn’t stop her from a desire to serve the kingdom she is rapidly growing to love and help usher them into a new, bigger and better, future.
Wishbone remains relatively quiet, mentally noting whoever might curl their lips at the idea of a Tephra princess eventually ruling the throne in order to speak privately with them at a later time. While she might be reckless in spirit, she isn’t looking to pick any fights or form any enemies within Nerine itself. Finally, once Scorch mentions spreading the word about the leadership change, Wishbone speaks. “I will travel to Hyaline, if another would like to come with me.” She’s been to both Loess and Hyaline in her childhood and both were seen to be beautiful kingdoms, but Hyaline holds her two older half-siblings and it would be perfect to deliver the news personally.
Despite herself, there is a visible glow of enthusiasm and bewildering joy sparkling in her sunset eyes. It’s undeniable that Wishbone is excited about this opportunity, even if she does not understand the hardships that come with it.
credit to eliza of adoxography.
Wishbone volunteers to travel to Hyaline. Someone else is welcome to join her, if they want to.
NIGHT WILL FALL AND DROWN THE SUN
WHEN A GOOD MAN GOES TO WAR
It seems they are as reliable as the sun rising. While the world spins (life and then death, the shifting of crowns upon heads, the rise and fall of land, the gain or loss of magic) they cling to one another in an embrace so dear that not even the force of the universe spiraling in endless, rapid shapes could tear them apart. It is a grasp between lovers felt and knot together so heavily that he feels her pain, even from a distance.
He is careful to give her space — to watch her grieve, frozen in place for hours at a time — until she snaps into action. They have grieved many friends together (even their own children), always with their arms and legs entangled. But he lingers in her shadows, waiting until she officially calls the kingdom before he slips along her burnt side. He will always be her shoulder to lean on, especially when the weight of the crown weighs so thickly she might stumble. The red knight trades her smile for one of his own, sewn with the thread of understanding and acknowledgement. They will have much to discuss, even in the depths of the night when she returns, bone-weary, from some kingdom or another.
He can’t help but think upon how damn sexy she looks as Queen of the Leviathans. It’s been a long, long time since he’s seen his wife take hold of the reins of an entire kingdom, commanding them with a simple tone from her gruff voice. While he knows the stress of the throne will cause ache to her bones and grief to her heart, he cannot help but think — as he had thought years ago — how well-suited she is for the position.
He is quiet, beside his fire-queen, while she moves briskly through the politics of a change of leadership. His brown eyes glance over Scorch’s back to the young princess who is to be the heir. She seems strong enough to lead Nerine, and she will be even stronger with his wife’s guidance. His eyes lock eyes with the young woman’s for a brief moment and a tender smile inches into the corner of his mouth. Although his heart swells for the twelve children he might have, he will always have room for more love.
While he has been absent in Nerine’s affairs, he speaks aloud. “If a diplomat wishes to travel to Sylva to deliver the news, I am willing to travel as a protector and soldier.” He’s never been a very good diplomat, finding too much sympathy in his heart to be quick-witted and stinging in his words, but he is gifted as somewhat of a soldier with his bulk and muscle.
Hestoni
Hestoni volunteers to travel with a diplomat to Sylva, however he won't do much speaking since he's not much of a diplomat. If no one wants to go to Sylva, that's fine too!
Bristol has only really talked to Wishbone since she came to pledge herself to Nerine, so she has no real idea that something might be amiss when she heeds the call of an unfamiliar voice summoning them to a meeting; she simply goes to the clearing with the tree. She comes by sky, as is her wont, and lands a polite distance from the others before coming forward to join them. Honey-brown eyes travel across the others who have gathered, lingering on the four standing somewhat apart from the group. The scarred mare who speaks she knows as Scorch; she had been the one to organize them for the first round of the tournament, and Bristol’s sire speaks highly of the mare who is now queen. To one side of her is a creepy creature, on whom Bristol’s eyes do not linger, and on the other side is a stallion that Scorch leans into in a way that leaves no part of their relationship to the imagination.
The fourth is Bristol’s only friend amongst her new Kingdom-family, and the bay pegasus quirks a happy grin at Wishbone despite the gravity of the situation; she did not know Hestia, and feels only the merest whisper of passing grief. On the other hand she has grown fond of Wishbone, and is glad to see her friend given such accolades. Scorch turns to speaking of diplomatic visits and Bristol first thinks to accompany her friend to Hyaline, but a spotted mare speaks up to claim that spot and three would most certainly be overkill. The stallion offers to escort someone to Sylva, and Scorch will go alone to her sire in Ischia, so that leaves… “I’m Bristol,” she announces with another quicksilver grin to any who might not know. “I volunteer to go to Loess, alone or in the company of a diplomat.”
For a moment, she turns her gaze squarely to her new Queen, and wonders if Scorch can see can see her sire in her. Bristol has her father’s eyes, as well as sharing a size, color and build with him. She’s even kept her wings in their natural state today, large and inky black. She will ask no special treatment for being an Ischian princess, as she suspects her friend Wishbone had asked none for being a Tephran princess, but she wants Scorch to know that with so many of her sons and grandsons in Ischia with Brennen, Brennen’s own children have not forgotten Nerine. And then there’s her age - she knows from her sire that Scorch is one of the oldest amongst those left who remember the old Kingdoms, and Bristol is ever hungry for more stories of her mother, and hopes that Scorch knew Prague.
Traton is here. She can go to Loess if desired, or wherever, she just doesn't know anything and turns into a stuttery mess when she's around boys that remind her of old friends x)
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