"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
To say that this particular stallion was in need of a fresh start was absolutely an understatement. Call it a mid-life crisis, but he had left his family - children grown with children of their own, and ventured into a world without the land he had been born into and the peace that absence left him with. Oh he missed it still, missed the faces, but the more time that passed, the easier it was to let go. Each beat of his silver-lined wings was a little more of the sting in the guilt and the pain fading away.
In place of those feelings he allowed himself to feel things he had not in a long time - hope, excitement, curiosity.
It’s getting close to dusk by the time he lands in an open field, his all-silver eyes bright as they scan the area around him. It is hard to judge a whole continent based on a first cursory glance, but at least this place isn’t dripping with poisonous glowing plants so it is already an improvement on some of the other places he has seen.
His dark face, the parts that haven’t already been silver his whole life, is flecked with grey hairs and there is a casual ease to the way he moves. Not the nonchalance of youth but a confidence earned from being tossed into the fire again and again and still coming out alright in the end. Maybe not exactly whole but that was the ever-present fight to become, was it not? Whatever this place ended up being, whoever he ended up meeting, he knew that it did not have to be permanent.
But still, like he had throughout all of his life, Mesec held onto hope.
Mesec
Please forgive any rustiness I'm still figuring him out!
Open to any! Except Tephra and Pangea and Taiga but like, anyone else. Idk.
He doesn’t honestly visit the Field that often any more - at least not as much as he did in the beginning, the laying of a new foundation on the Isle.
But the foundation is there. There are enough on the Isle to form a tiny army if needed; there are enough to execute another little excursion, and yet he is here, in the Field. Quite on accident, one might say, but it can never hurt to look. New meat would be welcome, even if just to strengthen morale, add to their numbers.
It’s with that in mind that he decides to actually land, instead of simply fly past. He retracts his ice-tipped silver wings to his sides, his claws return to their hoof-bearing state and his tail swishes once to release any remaining ice spikes; exchanging one body for another, he still keeps the wings. They’re a newly thing and he likes them, so who’s to keep him from having them most of the time? They’re practical, he thinks.
When another stallion comes into view, the scaled roan trots toward him - he sees no others approaching yet, and there’s something about the way he moves around that makes Leilan believe he is not that green - more of the type of horse he’d rather gather in the north, if he’s willing. Plus side, now that it’s spring, it’ll be a long enough time to get used to the temperature before winter truly strikes it’s love child.
The draft pulls himself to a stop at a greeting distance, snorting once to get his attention and following up with a question. ”Oy there. Would you be looking for a new beginning, perhaps?” Pretty obviously since he’s wandering in the Field, but there is the odd chance it is a recruiter, after all.
nothing burns like the cold
Leilan
Pick me pls @[Mesec]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
05-25-2020, 08:08 PM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2020, 08:11 PM by Malone.)
MALONE
what i can promise is i'll let you down.
The twins are old enough that they no longer follow him like little shadows. It breaks his heart a little, if he’s honest, but he puts on a brave face and takes some time to wander himself. Perhaps they are alike in this regard. Malone allows himself to feel some sliver of optimism when he crosses into the field to meet new faces. Mesec is quick to catch his eye – black and silver to contrast his own black and gold. This excites him and it is evident in the cheerful smile that eases across his handsome face.
He briefly looks over the other stranger and admires the little scales made of ice across his body. How strange and yet delightful, he thinks. Some of his family members can grow scales but he is not gifted in this way. Instead, swirls of stars glimmer across the ink black splashes across his body. This is more than enough to make up for the lack of armoring, he thinks.
“Hello! I’m Malone,” he introduces himself, coming a little closer than Leilan and doing his best not to be overly friendly. “Loess is rather nice, if you are looking for a new home, that is. We live further south than here so it gets very warm in the summer, but it makes for gentle winters.”
He doesn’t mean to, but he briefly skims across their thoughts out of habit. One from the north and one from some poisonous place that he certainly doesn’t like the sound of. Thank goodness Loess has very few harmful plants for him to be concerned about. His deep blue eyes drift to Leilan’s wings as he considers them for a while longer.
“They do look rather nice,” he thinks aloud before realizing how rude that is. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
His smile turns sheepish and he turns his attention back to Mesec before he gets himself into further trouble.
Scaled horses are not exactly odd compared to some of the other things Mesec has seen, but this would be a first for him he thinks. He’s seen dragons and he’s seen horses turn into dragons, but not something in between of the two. The draft rather immediately launches into the pitch, and for a moment Mesec is baffled (is it that obvious that he had just landed? That he was not “from here”?). His confusion lasts for only a moment longer, because someone else arrives - the newcomer filled with an easy friendliness that Mesec instantly likes.
Malone’s speech erases the confusion and suddenly Mesec realizes where he has inadvertently landed. There wasn’t, after all, a sign saying ‘all newcomers gather here’.
A warm smile brightens up his own features now that he’s more-or-less caught up to speed. “Hello to you both. I’m afraid I’m really rather new to this place. Have I stumbled into the recruiting spot?” There’s a bit of good-natured laughter in his voice as his silver eyes dart briefly around the rather nondescript field, in the middle of a continent, and he wonders why here of all places was the ‘entrance’ into whatever land this was.
“I’m Mesec.” He offers, bringing his attention back to Malone and the scaled draft. Mesec didn’t mind the attention from the (presumably) younger stallions - it wasn’t so long ago that he was a recruiter himself, swooping in on those who had stumbled into the new land one way or another. And, of course, he was here for a new start and would need help figuring out where to go from here.
He doesn’t even mind the fact that they are not wasting time in jumping right into it.
“South sounds nice, I have to say.” He wonders whether it will be a red desert like one he knew from home, whether he’ll expect to open his eyes there and see familiar faces.
Maybe that would not be so great, after all.
Now he turns his attention to the currently-unnamed stallion and asks “What about you, what’s your home like?”
05-27-2020, 12:05 PM (This post was last modified: 05-27-2020, 12:05 PM by Leilan.
Edit Reason: Must became mist and it wrecked the dialogue
)
A new beginning, a clean slate. That’s what the Isle had been for him all those years ago, part of the reason he’d claimed back then, and reclaimed it last year. If no-one else cared about the one land that defined the North as... well, north, that was their own problem. But he did. Always had and always would - he was one of those that picked a thing or two they liked and never changed his mind.
It was the same reason he’d always love Breckin, and would always remember the sight of her leaving with another as if he didn’t exist. Scratch that thought. He wished he could, though.
In a similar manner, he instantly liked or disliked most around him. Castile hadn’t even truly landed into his bad graces.
Fortunately today, both the black-and-silver and the starry-gold male fell into that category. They had an ease about them that made him comfortable enough, at least for now; in fact there was a trace of familiarity with the other recruiter’s gold tattoos, a similar one once on the face of a boy he knew - Jenny’s kid. But he’s long gone for sure, and besides, an adult, as he’d been older than Eurwen.
Either fortunately or unfortunately however, Leilan isn’t the type to indulge in personal lives, at least not on that deep a level, What makes him think of the subject anyway? Clearly he’s in a melancholic mood, first Breckin, then the kids. He focuses back on the conversation, nodding to the both if them politely, then outing a short laugh. ”That, you certainly did, my friend. Though I can’t help but wonder if you didn’t already know.” He didn’t look the type to not know, anyway, with what he presumed an age close to his own - though he himself had stopped aging at about a decade old, so nobody could probably tell he was nearing his second.
”I’m Leilan. And the south is indeed nice,” he agrees. ”If nice is what you’re looking for, anyway. My home’s due north - far as one can get. It has - had, I must say - the best views. Nights are still worth it though.” he tells them. ”It’s cold, of course, but not so bad once you’re used to it. Got burnt to a crisp recently though - we’re still rebuilding. Thankfully Loess has been a decent ally since.” He smiles a bit at the gold-marked tobiano at that. It’s not their fault that their king went on a rampage, but it sure helped that they’d been willing to talk about it as a problem that needed fixing, rather than giving them pity or fairies forbid, attempt to prey on them. Attempt, because preying on northerners would be met in kind.
Eyeing the star-and-gold male however, he frowns at the comment. ”Thanks, I guess.” Damn but his experience with mind-readers wasn’t the best. At least this guy let him know and then apologised - unlike the magician who came for his land, and the Sylvan mare.
nothing burns like the cold
Leilan
@[Malone] Yours next
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
Malone joins Mesec’s laugh as he realizes the stranger is entirely new to his entire region. How rude, he must have seemed then. But he takes his embarrassment in stride and continues along with the conversation just the same.
“If you ever find yourself just looking to chat or wander, there’s another plot of land just north of here for that,” he explains, still grinning and pleased to help. He gives a nod when the pegasus shares his name and he does his best to commit to memory. Malone mumbles it under his breath a few times to make it stick. “A pleasure to meet you, and you as well, Leilan.”
He tilts his head with his ears turned forward while the northern male speaks of his home. He doesn’t think he could tolerate the snow for such long periods but perhaps they enjoy it as he prefers the warmth of his home. The snow is the only thing that really inspires a sense of envy within the younger male but the way Leilan describes his home makes him wonder if they still have such frigid weather. He’d heard about Castile putting a real damper on the region’s beauty.
“If you’re unsure, you could always visit both and see which suits you better,” he offers. Leilan’s thoughts intrigue Malone, the mention of his dearly departed grandmother and the image of a young colt that looks a bit like his father. But would it be rude to use those thoughts again? Perhaps. But he would prefer not to explain that Jenova passed in a rather gruesome way and he tables the topic for another time.
The scaled one, Leilan, is… odd. Mesec’s friendly smile falters for the briefest of moments at the implication made that he had known this was the spot for recruitment, but was feigning his ignorance.
What would the point of such a falsehood be? Are the inhabitants of this continent so unaccustomed to outside visitors? These are some of many questions Mesec might ask, but it does not seem worth the effort to defend the honour of his honesty to this stranger.
It certainly makes choosing the next step easier, though.
Further easier by the description of the surely beautiful but harsh and apparently prone to fire land described to him.
So he finds his smile again, diplomatic. “I have to say, I’m not as hardy as I had once been. I am not sure I could handle the hardships you described.” Especially for his retirement. What Mesec doesn’t explain is that he had lived in a place much like what Leilan describes when he was a foal. He fears the near-constant presence of snow or the dance of the aurora overhead will remind him of the time his sister tried to rip the wings from his body. Or the constant feeling of being other and apart from the lives of his flesh and blood.
Although his family had made amends, there are some memories that do not fade. They are only suffered - and Mesec maintains his soft smile as these thoughts race.
“So I think I might prefer Loess, or prefer to visit there first.” This isn’t a for-sure decision, after all. He’s fairly sure he doesn’t have to decide the one place he’ll be living in the rest of his days at this exact moment. Though maybe that's another custom this land has set in place. It is, at least, nice to know there is a spot where he can go to just mingle not far from here.
“Thanks for the welcome, though.”
Mesec
going to toss Mesec into Loess. Thanks for the thread kids!
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