"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
05-26-2016, 09:27 PM (This post was last modified: 06-12-2016, 02:05 PM by Kimber.)
let me tell you something baby,
you love me for everything you hate me for
She has missed so much, at least in person, recently in the Chamber. Killdare and his following of harlots, though they likely weren't really such. She has been confused for another mare a few times, one named Malis but she just shrugs and continues on. Her previous meeting with the army was somewhat of a bust, especially considering that one of the members had passed on (murdered, maybe she isn't sure). She wanted to reach out to their allies soon in attempts of a formal mock but that wasn't on the forefront of her mind today.
She was more like a lioness stalking its prey in the tall grass to a social butterfly, flitting around. They say that in time, things come to you on their own so out of boredom; she decides to see the truth of that. Today she walks amongst the group, her wings tucked carefully at her sides as she moves swiftly through the kingdom. She can sense (and smell) Killdare but she does not make it her mission to seek him out. She was more interested in those she hadn't met prior and to see which sluts her old pal had drug in. Perhaps she has a chip on her shoulder, it's without reason really, but being angry is better than being hurt. She finds herself drawing closer to the Chamber's tree and admiring it as she waits for someone to cross her. The cat was visible and in the open, perhaps this was her mistake but it was her attempt at socialization. If you missed her, you were blind - blue, winged, loud, etc.
She yawns, wondering if her mouth would simply catch flies today or if she'd be able to work on her diplomatic skills.
i'm literally the worst with any posts but she needs to meet people.
All of them - so wound up in their own pointless little problems. Promotions and friendships, fucking and fighting. They think small so they see small, and none of them ever know that he’s watching. Time stands still for no man in particular (though he’s heard stories of magicians ripping time apart itself) but he realizes that instead of worrying about insignificant issues he should gather theirs instead - inspect them like oddities in order to remind himself that those things were the type of problems that dull the mind and lull the masses into some sense of normalcy. And Kimber? She was no different than the rest of the sheep Wyrm fed on.
Fleshy, aging, alone.
From the comfort of his perch he follows, a moth lazing against a trunk around one turn. An innocent fly the next. When she moves with liquid accuracy through the twists of their home, what is he but a beetle underfoot? Insignificant, easily overlooked. Eventually, she goes where they all end up one way or another; pondering silently before the everlasting flames. Her gaze is admiration, while others have shed sorrow, reverence, even hate. Where he clings, so high in the emerald branches, body indiscriminate so that he will go unnoticed, he looks to her without emotion. Cat-and-bigger-cat.
Lucky for her, Wyrm feels like talking. Down to earth he silently falls, some ways back from the opposite side of the tree she’s so intent upon. When he makes his entrance, meandering fluidly past the pines to stand some degrees away from her, he’s his birth-given green. A wash of blue has faded into his mane and tail and for appearances sake he is equine, a rather robust set of his own blue wings folded casually against him. Thus far he’d been drawn in by the fire, turning only to view her with feigned surprise, as if he did not expect to have company. A friendly smile twists his face and he nods once, slowly resuming his deadpan stare into the heart of the burning tree.
“They say a blood sacrifice reveals the future.” He comments casually, two-toned tail swirling gently at his hocks. “Do you believe it?” He wonders, eyes resting on her with mild curiosity.
she shall crush thy head,
and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel
06-12-2016, 11:22 AM (This post was last modified: 07-03-2016, 11:44 AM by Kimber.)
let me tell you something baby,
you love me for everything you hate me for
The Chamber is full of things that would raise any brow, some that go bump in the night, others that flit and flounce about in the daytime. There was never a shortage of freaks to be found, no not in this place and so it doesn't surprise her when seemingly out of nowhere a green, winged man appears at her side. He is green, blue wings and has a rather curious appeal to him. Kimber found everyone to be curious though due to her own persnickety nature. She hadn't realized just how much she spent putting thoughts, subconsciously of course, into the tree; wishful things really but they were lost on Kimber. She couldn't be bothered to actually put things into motion with Nymph, with Warship (though he's passed), with her children, with anything. The dip-dye mare wishes it were different but a character flaw is just that.
"Believe it? That's still up for debate but I'm sure a blood sacrifice would summon something - care of spare me some of yours?" a wry grin washes across the dip-dye mares face as she moves to face the creature. She assesses him and thinks, momentarily, how he would fair in battle. "Perhaps you'll care to share what you're doing hovering in branches nearby such a monstrous thing," she says with a certain distrust in her voice, she doesn't know him and she's typically at least seen everyone here. "Kimber."
A cat is a cat, no matter it's size.
i'm literally the worst with any posts but she needs to meet people.
It’s the lack of motivation that eventually kills them. Why was life even worth living if you had no drive, no incentive or purpose? You fall in love and those individuals disappear. You have children and before long, they’re gone. You work hard and suddenly your bones are like brittle twigs and your body decays without your permission. Everything that once gave you the will to survive and continue no longer matters because they disappear. He’d watched it in his sire, in his aunt. This is why Wyrm seems so unusual, why his presence has previously been unknown to the faded blue mare. He has no love. He has no children. He has no tireless effort to work hard.
What he does have is his power and his mind, and he uses both now. Her comment draws a rather amused chuckle from him, sinewy body angling away from the flames to face her instead. The navy blue feathers on his back ruffle softly, pulling a hair tighter to his sides as he takes a tentatively bold step nearer to where she stands. “I’m not the squeamish type, so for you I think I could be tempted to spill some.” He muses, elongating his top two canines until they jut from his mouth, over his lower lip. “But I don’t give away freely, Kimber.” He toys, tasting her name. The heat has dried his lips, so his tongue flicks from its resting place and rolls over his mouth, wetting his teeth.
“I came to have one final look at the thing before I cut my ties with the Chamber.” He tells her, grinning softly at the thoughts that drift through his head. Should he? No … he thinks he shouldn’t, even though he ponders what the curve of her rump would feel like underneath his weight. The less bridges burnt, the better he was for it. “So stop changing the subject.” He ends, voice dropping into a deeper tone. Another step forward, navy hoof sinking into the soft earth, matching tail swatting mindlessly at his sides, and he can almost smell her.
“My name is Wyrm, and I want to know what you’ll give me in return for a glimpse of the future.”
she shall crush thy head,
and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel
