"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
08-23-2017, 07:18 PM (This post was last modified: 08-27-2017, 10:03 AM by Voltage.)
Of Hamilton & Yasmine
He steps back into the land of his birth with an easy, almost careless grace, and his eyes are bright with curiosity at the changed landscape. The Field, at least, seemed to be the same as it had been when he'd worn the fuzzy coat of a foal; the same endless fields and the same shifting, swirling crowds of recruiters with their well-worn speeches received into the ears of those who had come in search of something to belong to, something to give their time and energy to other than simply the daily tasks that kept their bodies healthy and upright. Watching one such dance, a young mare with multiple suitors, each of which was attempting to outdo his rivals in an attempt to impress said mare, Voltage can't help but snort with private derision. Words were so often empty. Without any value or truth behind them. It was inner thoughts, the hidden mind laid bare, that was where real truths were found. And the bay stallion, of practiced nondescript appearance and an inborn, well-honed gift for telepathy, had found many truths in the minds about him, minds whose owners never even noticed his careful delvings. Useless gossip and petty worries about things that would never concern him also, of course, but one had to expect garbage alongside treasure.
He had actually been here for several days, updating his own brain accordingly, learning about the changes that had come to Beqanna (and my, what grand changes they had been!) since the days where Nexa and her mercenaries had so rapidly risen to power, even toppling a kingdom, before just as swiftly disappearing like a shooting star. There had been no mention of his former leader's name in any of the equine minds he had searched, nor mention of mercenary history. Truth be told, he would have been much surprised if there had been. But now it is time for him to step forth, see things unfolding in front of him once again. Perhaps there would even be something grand enough to catch his own attention. Turning away from the still-ongoing courtship unfolding that short distance away, he lets out a yawn. There wasn't even any place left that he might visit for nostalgia's sake were he so inclined. Not his father's herdland, not the land the mercenaries had held for their own, nor the kingdom they had conquered....all had been swallowed up by Beqanna itself. Still. Carpe diem, the telepath tells himself, and waits for just that chance.
A huge black mare, about 8 feet tall at her forehead, spotted the stallion. She walked into the field, furrowing her eyes as she looked at Voltage. She curved her neck as she inhales the scent of the other horse. She took a step forwards twitching an ear, and taking another step. She tilted her head as she looked at the stallion.
i just want to have fun and - get rowdy when i walk inside the party - girls on me
He chuckled silently, openly sending the gesture to the other's mind. He didn't often come here, but he'd only found one other like him before and he couldn't help his curiosity. Besides, he could always stand to meet a few new people. Yeah, he agreed in his thoughts, people don't always have the best thoughts, huh? Not very often at all, actually.
He approached, but kept a distance between them as he also faced the large mare that had joined. It wasn't like they needed to be near to speak anyway, not these two.
"Hello," he greeted her aloud with a winning smile and shining grey eyes. He cocked a hoof casually, the lavender-and-white islander completely at ease pretty much anywhere he went. His gaze stayed steady on her as he returned to speaking silently to the male, his pristine wings settled easily at his sides.
I'm Kharon. I've only known one of the types of people you're thinking about. He's from Ischia, like me, but he's been gone for a while. Off on contracts, maybe. He shrugged inwardly, not bothered either way. For some reason, he held faith that the bone man would return, though all he had to go by was his thoughts and he hadn't seen him since Kharon was a child. He sort of idolized him in a way, even though at the same time he knew he should be terrified of him. But wasn't. Wasn't really sure why, didn't think about it.
"I'm Kharon," he said aloud again for the woman to hear, introducing himself with a little tilt to his head and white forelock falling to the side as he studied her curiously. "What's your name?"
“You should be going home.” The muddy-gold colt chides himself. Over troubled, bruised eyes, his navy mane tumbles haphazardly with every progressive step he takes, giving him the look of someone wholly uncomfortable yet confident enough to keep ingressing. “It’s been a while…” He thinks, though he can’t help but wonder if it relates to the fact that he’s here, in the Field, or if it has to do with how long he’s been away from Taiga. A few weeks, give or take (time never disturbs the youth as it does their elders) but he’s sure that, to his dam, it’s felt like centuries.
It actually surprises him that she’s not been all over Beqanna looking for him and his brother.
These, however, are thoughts for another time. Currently, Crevan has no reason as to why he should even return there - it was almost a natural expectancy for young stallions to cleave free from their creators, to strike out one quiet morning and not return unless driven by necessity. No reason at all, aside from the reason of the obvious: he loved his home. Loved it almost as passionately as his mother did and he supposes (aside from his gifts) that it’s the one thing he’s truly carried on from her. This .. devotion to a specific parcel of land, so tenderly spoken of in his childhood and left, seed-like, to sprout in his own mind, breast until it had grown roots too deep to rip free.
It was everything, and yet nothing. “I suppose I should try, at least.” The boy reasons internally, since one: he was already here, and two: his path had led him into the heart of an already-gathered group. No turning back now, wolf-boy. “And I’m Crevan.” He tosses in, hooded gaze darting from one individual to the next. “Nice to meet you all.”
Then our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
08-26-2017, 07:07 PM (This post was last modified: 08-27-2017, 10:01 AM by Voltage.)
Of Hamilton & Yasmine
It doesn't take long for a mare to show up, though her behavior momentarily confounds him. She doesn't speak, not even to offer up her name, and he thinks that this is rather odd recruiting behavior. A quick skim of her mind reveals that she has not approached him on behalf of any kingdom. Perhaps she is mute, and seeking a home herself? He is polite nonetheless, knowing that others were more likely to be willingly useful towards you in the future if they recalled that you had treated them decently in the past. One never knew, after all, when one might need a favor or two...that old saying about burning bridges comes to mind. "Hello...my name's Voltage. What might I call you? " A silent thread of words touches his mind suddenly, and he tilts his head as the "speaker" arrives to stand some distance away. Other than himself and Hamilton, this winged male was the only other telepath he had known of; it didn't seem to be a very common ability.
No, he agrees in turn. Words are as easy to toss about as a handful of dust. Kharon mentions a mercenary living in his land, and his curiosity stirs despite himself. Truly? What might this mercenary's name be? He privately doubts that this stallion could be one of Nexa's band, as he had been, but there was always the possibility. A third horse joins the growing party, and Voltage shifts so that he can keep an easy eye upon all three of them, turning his back to none. Old habits were hard to break, and he's in no hurry to break that particular one. The third newcomer is surprisingly young, but he had been no older when he had been basically kidnapped by Nexa and her then-mindless puppet, Archer. Props to the lad if he was already out and working to aid his kingdom, despite his youth. He repeats his name in case it had gone unheard by the colt, then falls silent, his gaze drifting back and forth among the group. He knows why they're here; they know why he's here. Let the dance of persuasion begin anew.
She spoke, her boice deep for a female, almost baratone. "I am Night." She said, her voice slightly brash. Her eyes flitted between the three males. She walked closer now, her wntire body in a monotone expression. Her eyes glinted like shards of ice from her surrounding black coat. These two stallions seem to know something she doesn't small spurts of silence in the conversation. She draws came to a stop were she could comfortably keep all three in site, not close in many forms, but closer than before. When she stopped she stood in an almost bored position, the only thing dofferent was the position of her great head, raised up, her eyes calculative and watching. She didnt offer any more, her ears at lax, and body not tense at all. She looked slightly like a glacier, large and unmoving.
i just want to have fun and - get rowdy when i walk inside the party - girls on me
No, words are as easy to toss about as a handful of dust. Mhmm, definitely. He could understand that. The man seemed to perk up a little when he mentioned the boneman. Truly? What might this mercenary's name be? Kharon nearly just spit it out right then; why not, right? But then he remembered that everytime someone came to look for Do- uhh, the merc, they never knew his name, only to come to Ischia and then describe him. Although, typically they didn't even have to do that. The kinda people needing his sort of expertise sort of had a look about them, you know? He could pick'em out easy, show'em on up where they needed to go.
Plus he could always just listen in their heads, though he typically kept that secret. Since this Voltage guy shared the same thing, it wasn't like it would be a secret from him anyway, at least, so whatever.
Yeah, uhhh. Not sure I'm supposed to say it. He sort of has a calling card or something, I don't know. You'll know him when you see him, basically, and you don't wanna see him. Hahaha! Sorry, sorry. But no, - "I am Night," the woman shared.- I don't think he was ever a part of a Nexa anything. I've never heard it in his head, anyway, but he's a bit older than me, of course. Maybe that's further back in his past, I wouldn't know.
"Hi, Night," he grinned at her, switching to speech to include her again. Damn, she was huge. She was so quiet and watchful, too. Everyone back home, though so very laid back and chill, definitely had no problem talking anyone's ear off, if someone was around and interested in listening. Except Mom, maybe. She was... wellllll, she was one to avoid, maybe. But, minor detail.
Shortly, another showed up. He looked just a little troubled, lost in his thoughts, and he had plenty of thoughts. Geez, poor guy. Seemed like a bit of a mess, really. Some sort of conflict about home - hell, Kharon didn't know. Home was fu- uhhh... fantastic. This kid clearly didn't live on an island paradise. That's where he was going wrong, obviously. I suppose I should try, at least, the poor guy thought as he slid into the group and introduced himself. Crevan.
"Hi, Crevan," he greeted easily then glanced around to each person for a moment. Voltage and the woman, Night, were possibly looking for places to check out and maybe move in, but he couldn't really tell with this new one. Had a home, wanted to go home, and yet here he was joining everyone else. He shrugged inwardly and started up again.
"Okay, well. If anyone is interested in plenty of sunshine and beach, a good bit of jungle, oh! And some bio-luminescent glowy thingies, that's basically home for ya. Mine, I mean. We're real easy-going and loads of fun. Reilly's our resident Irishman, for anyone wanting a nice buzz - but maybe no swimming if he doses you up real good, you know? Drowning and stuff. Not me, though. Just walk on top, but anyway! Nice place if anyone is up for a visit, see if ya like it. Stay a while or just hang out for a few hours. Could be fun! Any takers?" and his grey eyes shined with excited interest as he looked to each of them.
You're welcome too, of course, though I'm not sure on a specific date when Dov will be back --oops. Eh, oh well. Anyway. You should come meet my mom sometime maybe. Wasn't really sure why he offered that, but whatever. He supposed if anyone could handle her moods, this guy could and probably without her winning all the time and getting her way.
As introverted as Crevan has attempted to remain thus far, it doesn’t keep him from noticing gaps in decorum or interaction. Gaps such as: silently staring at one another before making a face as if one has remembered something, only to turn back and speak aloud. It disturbs him, even though the moments of reprieve in speech are few and far between. His eyes, shrouded by nightcap locks, flicker with interest among the quiet-but-not-so-quiet trio as the mare takes her turn, followed in suit by the rather upbeat lilac fellow.
Then it’s his chance to make an impression. “I’m from the great redwood forest, Taiga.” He begins pleasantly enough. “We sport a beach of our own, though on most occasions it’s blanketed in thick fog. Cool temperatures, endless protection offered by the woodlands, and the redwoods are certainly a sight you wouldn’t choose to miss in your lifetime. Their crowns pierce the sky and their trunks would take more than a few horses to encircle. If it’s the serenity of the woods you’re looking for, look no further.” He ends on a quip, half of his mouth drawn up into a pleasing smirk.
Crevan wasn’t quite so brooding when that smile appeared. Of course, it would devastate him to learn that his home was no more - Taiga and all of her glorious wonders were slowly being covered by the sea and guarded by demon wolves. He would never be able to return there, and neither would his new acquaintances.
But that’s a story for another time, after this one; for now he turns his attention back to the three and chooses instead to watch Voltage, Night, and Kharon interact. Recruit or no, Crevan can’t help but feel like he’s learning something here - something he just can’t quite put his finger on.
The other telepath has become quite chatty in response to the bay's question, a buzzing string of words floating through Voltage's mind, and he simply patiently waits out the silent near-babble until he is alone with his thoughts again. The mare finally speaks, proclaiming her name, but he soon turns away from her with disinterest when it becomes clear she has nothing that would warranted his attention. She was not a recruiter, and he had no current taste for idle banter; that was not his purpose in coming to the Field. Kharon had stated that there was no Nexa in his mercenary kingdom mate's history; therefore it was likely that this....Dov? was simply a lone wolf, and not someone that Voltage might have crossed paths with before. The youngest male, the colt, speaks now, making his pitch. They are both intriguing offers, one for an island and one for a deep forest.
He'd never really had a choice of where he wanted to live before, to be honest. He'd been born into Gemstone Ridge, and since he hadn't fancied having Archer beat him into submission, he'd followed along behind the witch/mercenary leader, her kidnapping attempt having worked out just how she had intended it to. The bay stallion tilts his head to one side as he eyes both Crevan and Kharon, considering his decision. A selfish thought he doesn't have the inclination to push away surfaces: he had always enjoyed being the only telepath in his social group. Did he want to be in constant close proximity to other mindreaders? Not really, he determines after a moment. He liked that feeling of superiority, enjoyed being able to plunder others' secrets without them knowing his. Shifting his head back from its off-orbit position, he decides to amuse himself by mindspeaking his choice to all, especially the colt's unsuspecting head. Crevan, I will go with you.
She snorted and shook her head. "I have no aim to go anyplace. But I aim to be part of somewhere with denser forests." She said her head dipped in a respectful gesture. It was true what she said, no place truly in mind, but a clear goal to be somewhere where what......happened before she came to the field, had less of a chance to happen. She drew up her head fell silent once again, assuming her role as a silent observer once again. She looked at both of the stallions and the colt, she seemed to be watching everywhere at once. She tried to keep all of the males next suggested action at the forefront of her mind as she stood of to the edge of the conversation.
