"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
01-08-2017, 11:45 AM (This post was last modified: 01-08-2017, 11:48 AM by Thiago.)
In this world, there are those who love bunnies, and those who are terrified of bunnies.
Then of course, there are those who are bunnies.
Thiago strolls in, his dark eyes surveying the plebian souls who were in this part of Beqanna. He remembered some of their faces. Sorry bodies who mourned the loss of their powers or abilities. Thiago couldn’t give a damn otherwise. His face, such as it was, was distinctly lacking what made him distinct, and he found that blending in was all he cared to do. He found these days that he was not a people person—horsey horse?—and preferred his own company above others. Aloof. Darker than he had been.
The times had not been kind to him. Yes, he could finally blend in among the crowd, but now he could not escape them. What had he ever done that would cause this? He’d spent most of his time below the ground in a burrow, avoiding contact as much as possible. And yet, he had not escaped the wrath of the fairies. He is a man of few words, preferring the company of none.
He runs a tongue over his now flat teeth and smiles darkly. Normal. It felt good. His muscles ripple underneath a tight black pelt. Now if he could only return to his preferred form. He much preferred life below the ground, rather than being upon it.
Only, not having any close relations with anyone, had no idea as to go about it.
Social anxiety—what a fuckfest.
THIAGO
here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
I wish I could feel it all for you, I wish I could do it all for you
She is the opposite of him.
She hates being normal.
She would give almost anything to have her magics back. Preferably the ones that let her play in time, but she would even settle for the much peskier ability (or curse – half the time she’s not sure) to speak to the dead. So anyway she is in a terrible mood, stuck in the awful, regular speed present time. The little strawberry mare is even lonely – she had dumped her mostly-grown daughters on her grandfather, and not even been with them when the fae ripped the magics from the world, and now she isn’t quite sure where to find them.
But she has figured out that the Tundra is gone, as is the Falls, and so her grandfather is most likely homeless, which is why she’s here, traipsing through the crowded Meadow looking for them. And honestly, it shouldn’t be this hard. One’s blue, one’s purple, one’s covered in scars, two of them may or may not have wings, and one may or may not look like a zombie. Which is a lot of weird for three horses, so Kellyn can’t imagine they’re blending well.
She is so involved with her own thoughts, gaze skimming the far away horses, that she doesn’t see him until she runs into him. “Hey!” she yelps the response, bouncing back. He’s not huge but Kellyn is little, so she looks up at him, frowning. Realizes that maybe she’s in the wrong, and the socially polite thing to do is apologize. Which she isn’t great at, by principle. “Sorry,” she forces the word out, and then tilts her head. “I’m looking for a blue roan girl who may or may not have wings, a purple girl who may or may not look half dead, and a bay stallion covered in scars who may or may not have wings. I don’t suppose you’ve seen them?”
Kellyn
the girl who walks in time and talks to ghosts
daughter of cagney and elite
He looks around, trying to find anywhere he can slink back into the shadows. This was not a good idea. He was far too open out here. Back to the forest—into the trees, back to a cave, or a lean-to.. Something to resemble the burrow he’s had to abandon in order to be able to fit into this form he’s taken on..
Because he absolutely fits nowhere. Uncomfortable in his own skin, he finds that his black pelt is itchy, and he noses his rump, trying to scratch the itch that lays there. Yet another use of fangs when it would be appropriate to have them. Flat teeth… normal, but useless. Thiago accepts his own level of sexiness, but in that he cannot stand anyone, much less himself or the opposite gender…. Well, the point of being sexy is moot.
He has barely had the time to consider his next moves, when he groans aloud, having been pushed into—nearly knocked over. He huffs, returning to his natural stance, and his eyes nearly roll when he sees another has approached him out of nowhere; as if by magic. He looks at her. Flicks his ears. Looks beyond her.
He’s unsure of what to say, and so he takes a step backward, and clears his throat. He opens to his mouth to say something—anything to get him out of this situation—and then rolls his eyes again when she doesn’t seem to stop talking about who Thiago may or may not know.
He is uncomfortable… and this is evident in the way he stands there, barely shifting his weight from left to right. He looks around. And then finally brings his eyes level with hers
He coughs.
“I’m Thiago.”
Did I mention he’s not good with conversation?
THIAGO
here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
I wish I could feel it all for you, I wish I could do it all for you
She watches him as she blurts out her words, and she doesn’t miss that he is uncomfortable. Kellyn can’t help but wonder – is he uncomfortable, like her, because his whole world has been changed because the fae think they are all ungrateful (Kellyn resents this – perhaps she had been born with the time-changing but that’s because her father had done something special to get it; and she herself had earned her mediumship from Carnage, through fire and brimstone and lots of other scary, nightmare-inducing things)?
Or is he uncomfortable for another reason? The long, awkward pause makes her think perhaps it’s the second, and perhaps he’s uncomfortable because he’s mute or something, but finally he speaks.
And of course, doesn’t answer any of her questions. Kellyn sighs a little, looking around but always keeping him in the corner of her vision no matter what. She still doesn’t see any of them – and so she is annoyed at all of them. The awkward creature in front of her who didn’t answer her question, and her family for disappearing. They could have left a note. Smoke signals. Something.
Perhaps they left on purpose. The strawberry girl is not the easiest to be around, perhaps they had decided she isn’t worth it. That fills her with emotion too, half an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling of loss, and half bright and shiny fury. “I’m Kellyn.” she response, blinking at him as she tries to focus on him and not her own problems. Her words and short and clipped, but not overly sharp and she is satisfied that her fury underneath her skin is contained. “So…have you been here long? Did you see them?”
Kellyn
the girl who walks in time and talks to ghosts
daughter of cagney and elite
For Thiago, talking to this girl seemed like it was taking forever. And perhaps it was, because it has been precisely 38 days since Thiago has seen the light of the sun, and he is not particularly pleased. He has stood here, frozen in thought, for exactly 38 of those days, excruciatingly trying to figure out why the hell some rando-girl might think that he may or may not have seen something…
Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?
The bunny-man is annoyed—mostly with his writer—and settles his weight back in his back legs, considering his company. Her name is Kellyn. Nice name, strange girl. He cocks his head to the side, and then peers around behind her, looking about for anyone that might meet her description. “Nope,” he says, rocking back further on his heels, his ears going back towards his head. “Haven’t seen ‘em.”
Using as little words as possible, he conveys his message, and takes a few steps backward from her, slinking into shadow. He wonders if she will get the hint, and let the poor man go on his way. Social anxiety doesn’t allow for a body to find his own way out of a hole such as this—and for someone who is most used to being a rabbit, not finding your way out of your own hole is, well;
Embarassing.
Thiago cocks his head to the other side, and then coughs again.
Well, this was awkward.
THIAGO
here comes peter cotton tail, hoppin down the bunny trail
I wish I could feel it all for you, I wish I could do it all for you
She asks her question and then waits for his response, growing a little irritated when he simply looks blankly back at her, an awkward silence building. Finally he tilts his head and the strawberry girl sighs, glad that he’s finally coming back to reality. Until – he leans around her, looking around the meadow, and then looking back at Kellyn and telling her he doesn’t see them.
This time, the irritation leaps high and fast into anger, and she pins her ears, “Seriously, are you stupid?” the pony-mare snarls, snaking her head downwards, though she refrains from reaching out to bite towards him. “I can look around the Meadow my own self. I was asking about not at this particular moment.” Like before she arrived, or somewhere she hasn’t looked.
But, no. This is not how you get people to do what you want. Not when you’re a little over 14 hands and without any of your powers. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and opens them to find him leaning backwards, as if he can disappear.
She waits a moment.
He doesn’t disappear, only stands still and tilts his head at her again. Kellyn wonders if she’s already hit the nail on the head – perhaps he’s stupid? Or not-quite-all-there. Some sort of partially functioning mutant. Pity wars with distaste and finally she asks, “Are you ok? Because if you’re trying to evaporate or something – look, it’s not working.”
Kellyn
the girl who walks in time and talks to ghosts
daughter of cagney and elite
