"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
04-15-2018, 12:09 AM (This post was last modified: 05-09-2018, 09:20 PM by Everclear.)
When was the last time he had even been around here, this place he has always thought of as gloomy and safe? The Meadow has always been a home, no matter his crowns and devotions to other kingdoms in the past. So many struggles and a life long wasted - at least they could never take the Meadow from him. He doesn’t even know how many familiar “they”s there are still roaming this land, but he probably wouldn’t care either (and neither would they care about him).
More than he wonders about others, he wonders at himself. Why did he even bother to come back here when he knows there is nothing for him to find? He is plain and simple and fades into the crowd like any other young stallion, except for that ruddy depth in his eyes that speaks leagues of the depth of his experience. He has fought, he has loved, he has ruled, he has lost, and he has died.
But behold, as ever before, he is risen again. This internal monologue causes him to snort as he ambles boredly through the tall grasses and bodies both simple and extravagant all around him. Horses seem more colorful and eccentric these days, he notes, but what does it matter? The joke’s always been on him and it’s still not lost on him now. Why the fairies had seen fit to dose his blood with immortality is beyond him, for it had often scared him in the beginning. But fear has long since fled from him.
The dappled stallion chooses a boring little clearing in the quiet din of the Meadow at night. The moon is nothing impressive overhead, an unattractive gibbous, and the oncoming autumn wind still smells too strongly of dried grass. He doesn’t graze or gaze upward all stoic - he only turns his eyes to the others around him in a plaintive manner, silently observing them each without any outward emotion.
E V E R C L E A R
ooc: sry, is smol.. starters and rustiness and all xP
How alike they were, the two wanderers. She'd chuckle at the resemblance if she could, but alas, today marked the beginning of their acquaintance - perhaps later they would reminisce together over their similarities. She had fought, she had loved, she had ruled, she had lost, and she had died. And when she'd returned some years ago, to where had she ran first? The meadow. For like him, it would always be a home despite her heartfelt allegiances; the place where she'd met her soulmate; the only place that Beqanna left alone in the Reckoning.
What she did not consider, however, as her gaze lingered on the dappled man, was that he might be even more of a legend than herself. In truth, much of Beqanna was made up of new blood these days; faces from far, far before were nearly extinct. Scorch and Brennen were among the oldest residents; so you couldn't blame the ugly mare for figuring that this plain-looking stallion was probably among the new-bloods. How wrong she was.
The three-quarter moon shed little light on the meadow, but with an extra lid flicked over her roiling red-yellow eyes, Scorch watched the stallion in nightvision. He seemed calm, if a little boring, eyeing the few other meadow-dwellers without expression; a small burr of interest left Scorch's charred lips. Despite his relative plainness, something about him left her curious. The bare skin of her back twitched away the summer flies, having no tail to aid her; when they became too pesky, tiny and precise zaps of light flared where they buzzed and, falling, they were no more.
Figuring that this little show had outed her, Scorch heaved forward from where she stood leaning against a side-lined tree to approach the stallion who'd so easily captured her attentions. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to place him - but she'd lived two lives now, and faces faded faster than she cared to admit. When a comfortable distance remained between them, she halted; and then took another step forward. They needn't be overheard by the meadow-dwellers.
"Hello," came her brusque voice, low and choppy due to her vocal chords having been charred a lifetime ago. For some time, that simple word hung in the air between them with the same energy as the little zaps she'd killed the flies with; tantalizing, to creatures of their size. Her eyes held his own, guarded, and yet, curious.
At long last, she spoke again. "You've been here before." A statement; not a question.
He had to build up Loess again, his expectation for the kingdom could not come to life if the numbers were lacking. He adventured out to the meadow in hopes to find some horses to recruit to his newly risen kingdom. His mind was racing a million miles a minute, he had so much to think about, so much to do. Rebuilding a dead kingdom was no easy task, but Arthas was up for the task. He wanted to see beqanna return to the state it was before he left, it was to peaceful, it needed more havoc.
The moon was high in the sky, providing light for those who dwelled at this time of day, or night. It was not long before he spotted a pair of equines, one was a dapple like Arthas himself but a slimmer build. The other was......hairless? She bored nearly no hair on her body, quiet the sight to see. It was a typical scene for recruiting, one new to the lands looking for a kingdom, one already a resident looking to gain a promotion. Some did it for the true love of there kingdom, he shrugs, this was his opportunity.
He moves closer to the two, he misses out on the conversation they started but plopped himself in with them. If they were recruiting he would be sure to offer up his kingdom. He dips his head slightly to the two as he centers himself between them, raising his head up once again. Hello, My name is Arthas, hope I am not intruding. Honestly he did not care if he was, this mare was not the only one who could recruit. He scans to the stallion as the mare carried the scent of another kingdom. He was curious what brought this stallion to beqanna, more curious what his intentions were. Was he ready for a kingdom life? He could be a perfect prospect for the newest member of Loess, the start of there rebuild.
She'd been like him, once, though only for a very short period of her life (her first four years, if she remembered correctly); normal, uninteresting - a bay roan mare with little else to her than spitfire attitude and dazzling green eyes. In truth, had it not been for the dragon dream and the fire that'd followed her from that dream back to reality, she would still be that regular-looking mare: all of her magicks are psychic. Though I suppose if you count her eyes - gifts of that dragon dream - she does have one fancy thing.
But for a mare as hideous as her, she deserved her sparkling eyes.
His eyes went to her sparks of light with the alertness only intelligent creatures bore, and she smiled to see it. She felt as though there were two types of men these days: the brothers of Ischia, and the absolute jack asses who thought they could rule Beqanna with one wimpy spiel to take a crown. Amateurs; if she had less allegiance to Nerine, she would show them how it's done - but alas, no matter how much she gnashed her teeth for need of power, she would remain obedient to the Amazons first. Always.
The stallion opposite her allowed an equally reserved greeting, and for a time, their eyes did the talking for them. As the night air billowed around them, Scorch wondered at her dappled companion; at the years she saw in the depths of his eyes, and in the way he seemed to just fit perfectly here. Something about him, and yet... What was it? A determination solidified in her gut. I will find out.
His vague answer to her statement gives rise to a smirk on her charred lips; not one of contempt, but of interest and friendliness. She liked this man; liked his elusive, blase character. Perhaps because she was neither of those things; but opposites attract, dontcha know? Her head tilted a little teasingly at the question, as though in thought; but when she straightened her head to answer, it came honestly and with intrigue.
"Those who are not from here don't stand the way you do, my friend." She looked at him pointedly, wondering at just how ancient he must be; for the more she stood in his presence, the more she realized how great a history there had been in Beqanna before even herself. She stood at the hooves of a legend... Or at least, she felt that way. "You are a part of Beqanna's life energy. I can see you pulsing with Her heartbeat."
As the little bit of poetry came from her unworthy mouth, a stallion came to interrupt. Scorch snorted irately at his untimely arrival, and stepped away from him and closer to the legend as her private space was intruded upon. He introduced himself, and she flicked an ear in disinterest. She hadn't the time for stallions who placed themselves in the second category she'd established for Beqannian men - and if first impressions were anything, this new stallion was among that group.
Shoulders rolling as she was forced to settle into this new position, Scorch half-listened to this Arthas, and then to the other's response. At it's brusqueness, a grin came unbidden to the mare's lips; what surprises this meadow-dweller held! In her lifetime, she'd yet to meet another with the same ability to deliver scathing remarks; perhaps this Everclear would give her a run for her money.
(She did not recognize his name as one of legend, but still, she hoped; no, she believe.)
"I came because I see you." The weight of her gaze implied that she did not mean literally, but rather, that she could see his years; his wisdom; his compatibility to everything she upheld and believed. A glance was spared to Arthas, but she continued to address the dappled stallion in the end - perhaps if she knew this man had overtaken a kingdom just earlier this week, that would be different. "My name is Scorch, though a name means little."
04-17-2018, 07:49 PM (This post was last modified: 04-17-2018, 08:31 PM by Arthas.)
Arthas
The dapple stallion was instantly more inviting than the hairless mare. The mare who snorted at his presence and moved closer to the opposing stallion. Arthas cocked his eye at her and returned his gaze to the stallion, I seem to recall that the Meadow was always a place of open conversation. So the stallion had lived in beqanna before, nothing out of the ordinary. Arthas himself had left beqanna on his own accord, returning here shortly before he became King of Loess. It did cross his mind why the stallion left, or maybe he should be curious as to why he returned.
Everclear The stag introduces himself as, and Arthas gives a small dip of his head. He follows up asking why himself and the mare approached him. Before he could get a response the mare responds, it was almost funny, as if she was trying to beat him to the punch. He remains quietly, patiently waiting for her to finish. Because I saw you she responds and once again he cocks his eye at her. She manages to give a glance to him before introducing herself as Scorch. fitting name he thinks to himself, she surely knew how to come off rude, did she belong to a kingdom? He was curious, an example she was setting for her whole kingdom.
He clears his throat once she had grown quiet again, gazing once more to Everclear settling upon the slim male I am here because most of those without a kingdom wander here. It appeared as though you were being recruited and I came to add my two cents. I come from Loess, we are looking for loyal members. If he did not join it was no stress to him, he was looking for loyal members fully dedicated to the revival of Loess. Alas he desired to stay, curious of which kingdom this other one came from.
04-21-2018, 06:49 PM (This post was last modified: 04-24-2018, 12:51 AM by Everclear.)
In the end he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised - this is the Meadow, after all, and horses rarely come here if they don’t want to socialize. But he hadn’t expected someone to recognize him, or at least to realize that he is as old as he is. He still appears as young as the day he’d encountered the magical fairies of Beqanna oh so long ago, so why should anyone view him any differently?
But this mare, piteously scalded and bare, carries a similar posture as himself. A slight slump to her shoulders and the roughness of her voice did not speak of any newcomer, and he supposed maybe she saw the same features in him. It has been a long, long life after all. A gentle gust of the nighttime air passes between himself and Scorch as they stand together, as Arthas approaches and joins them, and Everclear takes a short breath of it. It smells of autumn, and it reminds him, oddly, of the last time he’d met his mother here, in this very Meadow. He had cried like a child upon her shoulder, unaware of the new sibling that had been growing in Alex’s stomach at the time. So many lifetimes ago, that was.
“Heartbeat,” he repeats Scorch’s word quietly and a twitch of his withers. “You could say that,” he responds. “I live today because of this land’s magic.” It is a simple admission, but not one that he gives lightly - very few others actually know of his immortality. At least, very few who are still living.
He would allow his mind to wander back through the velds of time to regale the mare with tiresome stories of his life, but there are other matters at hand. Arthas is with them now and his manners at least earn him more than enough of Everclear’s patience. In his day, the Meadow was not quite the place to come for recruiting purposes, however he is not remiss in his own conversational manners. It has been a long time since he has spoken to anyone but himself.
Introductions and pleasantries follow next, as is typical, and Everclear bears them all with the ease of a duck in water. Neither of their names are familiar to him, and somehow that is a relief; at least no ghosts have come to haunt him tonight. He hardly senses any of the hostility or strangeness between his two new companions - he has long since grown weary of discerning the differences between good-natured ribbing or competition. He simply smiles and nods again.
Loess is another new name to him and he cocks one ear toward the other stallion with some subtle interest. ‘Kingdom’ is certainly not a new word and Everclear allows himself a simple smile and a small sigh. How often the term came up, and how often he had ignored it. However, it is become quickly apparent to him that things have changed quite a lot more than he was ever used to.
He laughs very slightly when Scorch answers, though it is good-natured. “Indeed, names mean little… mine has rarely become me.” After all, his life has rarely been clear, nor have his actions or intentions. For not he is calm and quiet though, no longer the fierce creature he once was nearly one hundred years ago, nor the insane beast his granddaughter Virgo’s life had left him to be. He is himself again - Ragtime had cut his throat with his metal wing, Virgo had found him bloodied and gored here in this Meadow… and he had slipped away from the world.
“Arthas…. Loess. What is this place?” he looks back to the stallion as he addresses him, and then he looks back to Scorch. “Have you come here with the same intent? These names are all new…. I suppose I have been away a long while.” His coat twitches again as if in a physical laugh, but no sound leaves his throat. “Beqanna perseveres,” he mutters, almost to himself.
If there'd ever been one thing Scorch - or, frankly, any Amazon - didn't care about, it was how her disposition made unimportant stallions feel while they met each other in passing. No, even more than that - she didn't care what anyone thought of her, nor how her actions "reflected" upon Nerine. The Amazons were fiery, biting, and male-hating back in the day - the fact that the dappled stallion couldn't seem to swallow her very mild attitude today all but made her chuckle. Oh, he'd have been eaten alive back in the day - eaten alive.
But the mare ignores Arthas and lets him give his spiel about filling kingdoms, blatantly asking Everclear if he'd want to join Loess. Scorch flicked an ear; last she heard, Loess had been a dead kingdom, inhabited only by Castile and Lepis. Who was this man now? She planned to find out. But for now, her attention slunk back to Everclear, to this stallion who's heartbeat truly did thrum with that of the land's. An immortal - and not a new one by any means. She watched for his reaction to Arthas, wondering if he would feel the rift between them the same way Scorch did; age and experience showed, even if it did not show physically. For Everclear looked as youthful as Arthas himself, and dappled, too - but this similarity of appearance was perhaps the only thing shared between them.
He laughed with smoky tones that brought a knowing smile to Scorch's lips, and she dipped her head when he allowed that his name never truly fit him. While she couldn't say the same herself, she could understand the dissociation between name and true identity. Soul, if you will. "Well, it becomes you today," She responded easily - for his presence here was everclear, at least to her; like she'd said. She saw him for what he was - and not as another body to fill out the ranks.
They both had stories - they could spend the rest of their lives contentedly swapping them.
But he was asking of her own kingdom allegiance now, and she sighed as if to say well, you forced this to become a recruiting scenario, friend; not me. Still, the tail end of the breath came with a smile, her molten eyes glimmering proudly as she began to speak of her homeland. "Where I come from carries with it the name and ideologies of a land that even you ought to remember, Everclear." Her voice turned up mischievously, musing herself at the preservation of Beqanna; undying, as it were.
"The legend of the Amazons lives on in Nerine, the coastal kingdom due north." In the darkness of the night, Scorch called to herself threads of light. The dancing figures illuminated her broad, baroque chest, and on its right side, a hand-sized red rose and vine shimmered. She'd won the marking from the Games; no other Sister carried the tattoo anymore - and indeed, this tiny marking was barely a shadow of how painted they used to be. Especially her - when she'd ruled, she'd been covered in living flame, mutilations proudly hidden.
After they'd had their look at the tattoo, Scorch dispelled the threads of light and darkness returned to the midnight trio. "But we are not the Amazons of Old - just their continuation. We take men among our ranks now - anyone willing to pledge themselves to the Sisterhood, to the good of Nerine." She eyed the stallion evenly, wondering exactly what he would think of this new chapter in the Amazon's long, long history. Her smile widened, and she couldn't help but ask a final question.
"Had you any ties to the Amazon Jungle, Everclear?"
Arthas vaguely listens as Everclear and Scorch share words, it was not until his name was mentioned that his attention was fully back into the conversation. Everclear asks what Loess is like, the question is mutual for Scorch. Of course she beat him to the punch, it seemed like she was getting a rise from being faster, as if it was a competition.
He was slightly interested in the hairless mares kingdom, and it was not until she mentions the old beqanna that he becomes fully interested in the words she speaks. She mentions that the kingdom she lives in now, Nerine, lives the same code life as the Amazons. Although he does not physically show his shock, he is truly at a loss of words. It is not that he thought he was the only equine who lived in beqanna prior to the new shift in the land, but he has never seen one since. He wishes it was any other equine beside her, one more friendly, one with hair. He had so many questions as to why she was even out here recruiting Everclear, but she speaks again and it all made sense. Nerine had similar lifestyle as the Amazons although they allowed males amongst there ranks. She asks if the opposing stallion had any ties to the Amazon, but before this became a conversation of two he added to the conversation.
Loess is a kingdom based off of loyalty. He raises his head higher, a stallion who lives off of loyalty amongst the kingdom residents. We are loyal to one another, and unlike Nerine there is no pledge to be in the kingdom. There is no trial or test to see if you are good enough, instead you are treated with respect from the get go. There was more he could share, but he prefers to spare the details, keep as much of his kingdom a secret from the Nerinian mare. So then Everclear, which kingdom will you choose, if any? His gaze flicks to find the dapple stags.
05-09-2018, 02:19 AM (This post was last modified: 05-09-2018, 03:29 AM by Everclear.)
Kingdoms…
He remembers them surprisingly clearly for such an ancient creature. He remembers fighting, bleeding, dying, breathing for nothing more than his homes. He had lived in nearly all of them, before The Reckoning, before he had been killed, before he had withdrawn. But that is the life of an immortal, especially one who had once been touched by the magic of magicians. Prague had pitied him once, his love for her having been too strong for even an Amazonian to deny, and so he had survived even the worst of his trials.
Madness, war, murder - all of them had visited him more than once throughout his life and even he wonders how he stands here now in the host of roasted and of noble company. But they treat him kindly, as if he were any other strange new face in this land and, to them, his is a new face indeed. Even in this failing weather, as the trees turn copper and shed their coats, he finds it refreshing.
Scorch replies that his name becomes him and, internally, he smiles. So many times he had joked about his name and so many times he had hated it; he remembered the day his mother gave it to him and the way the Jungle heat had pressed against his throat. He breathes a gentle but knowing breath as she speaks, appreciating her understanding but nearly disagreeing with her. Still, she was correct - he must be fairly transparent if these two horses with such intent had come to speak with him beneath the fattening moon.
Her words intrigue him, but the word ‘Amazons’ would have grounded him if he were not steadier on his feet. He swallows a breathy gasp and nearly frowns, a brief flicker of his brows and a pause in his breathing. He had been born there, after all, and his mother had been Lady to the Queen Asylum and to Prague.
Prague…
He shakes the name from his mind with a shake of his mane. How long she had strung him along, how long he had worshipped her… how long he had wanted to be accepted.
He tries to compose himself again. He had been a king too, after all. He had fought and bled for his home when they needed him, for the Gates when the grasses had been lush but the inhabitants had been doubtful. He had been proud to fight off the invading Chamber, but his subjects had not. He had won their freedom. Regardless, he is surprised to hear the words from Scorch’s mouth and he listens closely.
“I did, in fact…” he responds to her question. “I was born there. Long ago.” His eyes fall away at last as he takes a small breath and twitches his tail. “My mother Alex served as Lady to…” He dares not to speak her name now, for it would bear such weight. “Lady to the Queen, in her time.”
His mother had taught him, though, that it would be very rude to ignore Arthas in their conversation, so Everclear steels himself against the unexpected revelation and lifts his head a little again. Turning back to the other dappled stallion as he offers his own input, Everclear expresses his own interest: “Loyalty is a very admirable trait. It has saved many lives and lands in the past, I know that from experience.” He debates the next question asked of him carefully, and the answer that comes to his ever-indecisive heart seems the safest for now.
“I cannot make a decision yet,” he replies first to Arthas and then to Scorch. “However, the appeal of a herd that is similar to my birthplace calls to me. Arthas,” he returns to the other stallion, “I hope that we may remain friendly. May I visit Loess at a later date?” He dips his nose a little and fixes the other stallion with his eyes. “Please do not take this as a refusal.”
He looks between them both again: “I need to find my bearings again. And...if Nerine is similar to my birthplace, I believe that is where I should begin.”
E V E R C L E A R
@[Arthas] @[Scorch]
ooc - if we wanna call this the end of the thread, that works kinda well I think. I'll post for Scorch in Nerine. and I'll have EC seek out Arthas pretty soon too, once I figure out where I want him to live :3 if you guys wanna do anything else plot-wise just PM me, I'm super flexible and happy to plot or do anything you may want! <3 EC has always kinda been a kinda kingdom-bouncing bum depending on what/who appeals to him (he's a bit fickle but devoted) and I at least want him to remain friends with Arthas because they seem pretty similar in their beliefs :}
Everclear
When was the last time he had even been around here, this place he has always thought of as gloomy and safe? The Meadow has always been a home, no matter his crowns and devotions to other kingdoms in the past. So many struggles and a life long wasted - at least they could never take the Meadow from him. He doesn’t even know how many familiar “they”s there are still roaming this land, but he probably wouldn’t care either (and neither would they care about him).
![[Image: scorch2.png]](https://66.media.tumblr.com/d3f8827d56fd033f445fc5aa8055947a/3778d5ee43303690-eb/s1280x1920/532e323d08dfe066db7c4d27a9277d571bf7cdb2.jpg)
