"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
Where there was chaos, Flamevein knew Lokii wouldn’t be far behind. While the pyro craved the power and prestige that came in the aftermath of chaos, Lokii craved it all. They made quite a pair, the pyro and the illusionist. If things had materialized when they’d first met, perhaps already their names would already be etched into the history books. However, they had both fallen into the trap of their stagnant king and had simply went their own way. But now the tides were changing, and chaos was starting to rear its head once more. And they deserved a place at the crest of that wave. They were the first Valley members to ever suggest such a thing, and if not the first then certainly close to it. It seemed only natural that they would be, for lack of a better word, friends.
So he sought the trickster out. He searched the Valley first, but his search was cut short by the raising of the new cosmic fire barrier around the kingdom, as well as the branding of her loyal members. It was his first time crossing through the magical flames, and a shiver went up his spine as the warm flames caressed over him. Once he was free he headed towards the meadow. It wasn’t a place he often visited himself, but it seemed as good a place as any to search for his old friend. The journey wasn’t a hard one, and he kept small flames around his ankles to clear his path through the snows. Think smarter, not harder. The nebula-faced stallion slipped into the meadows surrounding forest quietly, almost stealthily. If he was here at all, surely it would be in the shadows, plotting or scheming. He weaved in and out of the trees like a cat, and he paused for a moment to scratch his shoulder along the trunk of a particularly sturdy-looking oak. When he had satisfied the itch he didn’t move further, but simply stood, clearing the snow around him almost idly. He’d done this much, the trickster could do the rest.
flamevein
i set fire to the rain
"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. What I've tasted of desire I'll hold with those who favor fire." - R. Frost
He smells him before he sees him. Although the scents of ice and water and snow surround him (oh, the aromas of winter), it was not often paired with the warm whispers of fire on his nostrils. And that is how he knows. Although he wouldn’t exactly call the pyromaniac a ‘friend’, per say, there was still a slightly-less hard spot in his tricky heart for his co-worker.
Although they hadn’t been together for an incredibly long time (only while under the rule of their disappearing-act king and his disappointing promises), the pair had worked together under the ticking clock of chaos with perfection. Each desired some aspect of their shared lover – the pyro with the power and aftermath, the trickster with the beautiful craze and screams of loss. It made for an interesting yet seamless teamwork (something which left open many opportunities of chaos to reign).
A wide, mischievous grin splits his face at (first the smell and then the sight) the appearance of his pyro comrade weaving through the shadows. Only he would know to come find his tricky co-worker among the shade and tightly-knit forest. The sandstorms stir around his heels again (excited by the possibility of another chaotic mission, of playing with an old ‘friend’, of stirring up trouble and wrecking lives again) as he steps out of the darkness and into the fire-lit circle of light. Bruised eyes (blue and black, blue and white) reflect a chaotic excitement from within.
“Long time no see, Flamey,” he says, tenor voice floating out in that terribly charismatic way. “What brings you to the meadow? You don’t usually come this way.”
Flamevein had felt a change in the winds. It was a subtle thing, but it was there. It was like the changing of the seasons- you didn’t notice it until it had fully happened. It had started as just a murmur and still hadn’t risen much above a whisper, but it was there. It was in the hushed conversations in the forests. It was in the hot words spilled into twitching ears. It was everywhere across the lands, but no one had yet to shout it from the mountain tops. But the pyro knew something was fixing to happen. He could feel it in the very marrow of his bones. Even the gasoline in his veins seemed to be flowing faster in response, which in turn caused his fire to burn ever hotter. Demian had claimed the wall was simply a protective measure, but Flamevein hadn’t been raised a fool. He was very much able to see the forest through the trees. It was protection as much as it was a warning. Fuck with us, we’ll fuck you back.
The corner of his lips lifted in a wicked grin. The trickster had found him easily, as Flamevein knew he would. He still had that lilt to his voice that spoke of various misdeeds, as Flamevein had thought he would. While they weren’t exactly friends, Flamevein thought he knew the illusionist well enough to believe he’d never reform from his wicked ways. “I could say the same for you, Lokii.” he purred, his baritone voice like silk spilling over his teeth. He was handsome in the most devilish sense. All the better, really, for it made it easier for the wolf to walk amongst the sheep. “True, I don’t come here much. Idle conversations aren’t really my thing, unless there’s something to be gained from the conversation. Truthfully, I’ve been looking for you.” he said, rolling his shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. While he knew the trickster would never work for free, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have him on their side should shit eventually hit the fan. “You missed the show in the Valley. She’s putting up arms. The Chamber chewed up the Gates. Seems like things are changing, like the shit pot has finally gotten a good stir. Now would be the time to pick up where we left off when Oxy flew the coop.” he finished, his blue eyes sparkling wickedly. The pyro had had enough of being stagnant- he was ready for some action. As if in response to his wishes, the flames licked quietly up his legs.
flamevein
i set fire to the rain
"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. What I've tasted of desire I'll hold with those who favor fire." - R. Frost