04-08-2021, 07:52 AM
|
Beqanna
Assailant -- Year 226
"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
[open] consider how to find a place to stand
|
||||||||
04-08-2021, 07:52 AM
04-12-2021, 08:10 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs; better not to breathe than to breathe a lie As summer spins on, Tiercel feels as though his mind is hazy and clear all at once. The sun fiercely bears down on him, and a piece of him is grateful for the intense light. Yet the rest of him (the majority of him) cannot shake the contrasting bright-white and deep-dark of the Underworld. At least, that’s what he thinks it is; it felt like hell to Tiercel, and he will be deeply concerned if it wasn’t. The harmony of screams ring in his ears in his nightmares, and he often wakes with cold sweat layered thickly on his skin. And the pain… Despite his best efforts of confining those memories into a forbidden corner of his mind, Tiercel often feels the lingering effects of the consuming agony. The trauma strikes him at odd moments. On this particular early morning, the sunrise looks too bloody for Tiercel to handle. The sky is washed in shades of red and orange, and it would look beautiful on any other morning — yet it reminds him of the pale winged mare, her blood splashing the black clay. He pictures the way her eyes rolled as she died, the way her body shook as their guard crouched over her, and the way life suddenly returned to her so her death could begin all over again. He imagines that slow, torturous process as it happened to him. He feels every burning inch of it, and it scares away whatever exhaustion remains behind his eyes. Tiercel heads toward the border, hoping that he can keep his eyes on patrolling instead of observing the mare’s blood coating the sky. The navy dun wonders if he will draw the attention of any lingering nighttime predators; since his return topside, Tiercel has noticed the core of his heart and the cords of his blood vessels glow with every heartbeat. He pulsates from the inside out, and it makes him sick to his stomach, knowing what the glow represents. The sight of Gale’s familiar brindle stripes provides a hopeful distraction. Tiercel aims his path toward his brother, gathering his anxiety and fear close to his chest so he will only feel it. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says with as much warmth as he can express. “You know this place is home just as much as Islandres.” tiercel. @[Gale]
04-14-2021, 01:18 PM
05-09-2021, 09:31 PM
It seems his faux-enthusiasm effects his brother. It’s enough for Gale to ignore whatever memories he might’ve Seen and lean into the warmer parts of the dun’s greeting. Tiercel wouldn’t have felt the slight tug at the back of his mind if he hadn’t already been restraining his tide of emotions. It has become a familiar feeling, Gale seeing through his blue-eyed gaze, but the dun isn’t comfortable quite yet. It’s a strange sensation (feeling someone pull gently at his nerves and place themselves within his world) when he knows it’s happening.
It reminds him of the ways he had been splintered apart, put back together, pulled at, infiltrated, and exploited in the past months. But his brindled brother moves past the glimpses of his torture, and Tiercel internally relaxes with this decision. He isn’t in the mood to explain why his heart glows, or how he can hear screaming every time he wakes up, or why the sunrise looks like blood. Gale’s news about his move distracts Tiercel from any deeper thoughts. “Hyaline, huh? What is it about the mountains that call to you?” The tall mountainous range has always loomed over Loess, a mighty but daunting eye watching over the red rocks. The dun had wandered through the foothills on his journey away from home, but that had been years ago. Since his return to the canyons, Tiercel has failed to explore much past the soft, pale shoulders of his lover. With a sly, charming smile the navy-marked stallion says as much to his brother. After all, who is he to deny the affections and desires of a mare seemingly born from the stars? @[Gale] Naked post because my internet in Tennessee is slow af.
05-11-2021, 08:07 PM
06-01-2021, 01:50 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs; better not to breathe than to breathe a lie With a slight tug near the back of his eyes, Gale pulls the two pale mares into focus. Tiercel’s muscles tighten in response to the sensation, and his heart begins to speed up to match his anxiety. The rhythm of his glowing increases in time with his pulse, the light tracing the route of his blood vessels. He hopes this new pattern of his heart will seem to be a reaction to seeing the image of Islas, and not a traumatic response to the way Gale infiltrates his mind. Tiercel focuses his energy on Islas, on her endless dark eyes, on the familiar curves of her face. He draws his strength from her, using the soft glow to fight away the memories that threaten to consume him. Blood and bone flash behind his eyes for a few moments, and Tiercel blinks hard to force the images away. When Islas disappears, the dun turns his gaze toward Gale’s mare. She’s pretty, he notices, and there are many features that make her seem like a worthy companion for his brother. She looks like a warrior, with twisting horns and bright orange eyes that seem to look deep into his soul. Tiercel wonders if the image of Mazikeen can see why he purposely avoids the blood-red sunrise. He can’t deny his brother’s joy, even among Tiercel’s trauma, and he sends a dose of happiness toward Gale. “That’s great, Gale. She must be able to beat your ass,” he says jokingly, moving his gaze from the strong-looking mare to his equally strong brother. While Tiercel and Islas don’t physically compete against each other, his wife is not the fighting type, and her body is not built for physical dominance. Yet the dun assumes that Gale must mock-fight with his companion if she’s that muscular. “You’ll fit right in with the mountains.” tiercel. @[Gale]
06-02-2021, 06:26 PM
| ||||||||
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
|