"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
Deep down all you want is love
The pure kind we all dream of
They shout and scramble. They are worried, frightened. Shiya watches as they rush past her in their desperation to flee, all while she stands motionless with the hills at her back. The world is shifting again, growling underfoot even as the plants begin to wither and die.
Like they will.
She feels like the spawn of chaos, immune to the destruction as she remains safeguarded by His own magic. While she helped surface the diseased land of Pangea, thus birthing this mayhem, it is appearing beneficial in this moment.
A jagged smile smears across her lips, watching as the world becomes a heavy blur. There is no need for her to make haste like these lowly pawns. The only reason she moves at all is so that she may perhaps find Vulgaris amid the chaos, but she doesn’t call to him, not yet. She nonchalantly ambles from Loess to this new land, her hips swaying languidly from side to side as she drinks in the sights. Smug in her travels, she eventually finds herself in the Pampas, her reptilian eyes sweeping across the unfamiliarity before being drawn to her stomach. The slight bit of movement attracts her, holding her focus for a long minute as she pictures the life they’ve created. A miracle churns to life in her womb.
They will be a family again. It will be perfect.
The confirmation of Loess residents reaches her nostrils again. There is Wolfbane, but he means nothing to her. Shiya has never been one for politics or a kingdom life. She is here for herself, for Vulgaris, and for their unborn child. While immune to this disastrous plague, Shiya savors the idea of a shelter from the mayhem.
SHIYA
But we cannot escape the past, so you and I will never last
original html by Jassal
Once can only do so many beginning posts before they ultimately suck lol
The things she’d done for Carnage are ultimately the stuff that make up her dark twisty nightmares. It had seemed like such a grand adventure, questing for a demi-god, and even getting sick hadn’t phased her much. Granted, she’d been quite delirious for a while, and as such perhaps hadn’t been thinking quite clearly. She is rarely delirious now, her symptoms starting to fade (mostly now she’s tired, and sometimes coughs, and has a little fever with chills), but she wonders for a moment if she is, when she spots Shiya amongst the grasses and the flowers.
Noah doesn’t know the dark colored mare’s name, but she recognizes her from the glimpses she had gotten of the other seekers. More often, she’s seen the mare’s face in some mutated fashion staring a killers or victims in dreams that feel disturbingly like the death of her father, but she can still recognize the source material when she studies it hard enough. Curious, the winged roan girl approaches the mare, leaving a trail of blooming new flowers in her wake because she just can’t help herself. It’s a spot of brightness in her terrible grief.
Just like talking to strangers is a distraction from thinking about Rhonen. Wondering if her father would still be alive if she had never gone on the god-mage’s strange quest. “Hello,” she calls out in her sweet, yet somehow distant voice. A voice that sounds like it might be more in place on a ghost than a girl. “I’m Noah. I’m glad you’ve found a safe place.” She pauses and realizes that isn’t quite what she intended to say. “For the babe’s sake, of course, since we can’t get the disease. Congratulations, by the way, I’m sure it’s so exciting to be expecting!”
11-01-2018, 09:11 PM (This post was last modified: 11-01-2018, 09:11 PM by Shiya.)
Deep down all you want is love
The pure kind we all dream of
Shiya doesn’t acknowledge the girl, not at first. Her initial span of attention gropes desperately for Vulgaris, but he has seemingly slipped away from the Pampas to seek others. Deep in her gut, she knows. Leliana is out there with their daughter and unborn child; it was only a matter of time before he melted into the shadows and discovered her whereabouts. Bristling, Shiya forces herself to eventually look away from the hazy border of the land to finally see, and recognize, Noah. While the name escapes her, the scent and picturesque face are beacons in her memory.
And despite her disinterest in conversation, Shiya forces a jagged smile to stretch across her lips and soften the ridges of her face. It could be a distraction, if nothing else – a preventative restricting her from finding Vulgaris and ripping apart the threads of his and Leliana’s love.
For a fleeting moment, she considers letting him once again slip through her fingers, but then she catches herself and reconsiders.
Tilting her chin upward, she succumbs to having company and pushes Vulgaris, temporarily, to the back of her mind. ”Shiya,” she offers in a drawling tone while turning to face Noah. A moment’s hesitation enables her to grip and consider the congratulatory statement. She should be excited, dancing on Cloud 9 and shouting to the sky, but she is weighed by her worries of a crumbling family. ”Oh yes,” she lies with the sweetest of voices, concealing all ounces of malevolence that has inflicted her as of late. Innocence, she tells herself, play ignorant. ”The child is my utmost concern. I can only hope to protect it from this plague.” Of course it will survive – it has strong bloodlines and its mother is immune. What a beautiful thing.
Breathing in a lungful of air, Shiya immerses herself in what may very well be her home for the next few months until all of this has subsided.
A home. What an odd prospect.
With a brow lifting underneath her forelock, Shiya’s reptilian gaze levels with Noah. ”Are you from Loess?” She pauses, connecting the pieces quickly together. ”I know you weren’t one to scramble for refuge – why would you when you are immune as well?” There is a motive to her presence here, among a pack of wolves. Shiya considers the options, but says nothing more as her eyes flicker between the hills and Noah.
SHIYA
But we cannot escape the past, so you and I will never last
She has no inkling of the darker thoughts beneath the dark mare’s sweet exterior; she has no reason to suspect the mare of ill intentions, and so she simply does not. Instead she flicks her darker-tipped ears forward and peers at the stranger through dark eyes while she introduces herself. The girl tries to paste a bright smile on her face, but it’s probably fleeting – half-there, like her quiet voice. “This is a good place to protect it,” she agrees. “And, um, I can help you if you need it. I can heal the plague.” She keeps saying this, and she can feel the truth of it in her bones, but she sincerely hopes she will not fail to deliver when the time ultimately comes that someone needs her.
In a smooth and logical flow of conversation, Shiya asks if Noah was from Loess, and this time she can read between the lines. Two Kingdoms would have converged here, two Kingdoms that even a nomad like the red roan knows were once close and are now quite at odds; Shiya probably knows already that Noah did not come from Loess or from Sylva; if not from knowing most of the residents personally, than by smell. She hesitates, but decides to give the truth to her new acquaintance. “I didn’t have a home. I thought maybe I’d settle in Pangea, after everything we put into it. But…”
The grief threatens again, swelling in her chest and showing itself in glistening tears she fights to hold back. “My father was all I had We were going to move to Pangea and start over, together. And they killed him, and unleashed this thing, at Carnage’s behest. So I have nothing. I’m looking for a fresh start, and this is where my heart and my feet brought me.” She lowers her nose, tears dripping onto the ground, and where the hot liquid hits the ground, more flowers bloom out-of-season through the snow. “It lies dormant under snow now, but it will be so beautiful come spring.”
