if heaven's grief brings hell's reign [someone]

[Breckin]

Piercing the quiet, her breathing became ragged and distraught.  Sides heaving and heart racing to catch up with the images pressing in, her eyes flicked upon.  A startled gasp fled her lips as she drew her head up from the pillowy sands of Nerine.  Tucking her ivory limbs beneath her rapidly, she rolled upright in a panic, scanning the small alcove around her, searching for the cause of her start.  Shifting to look at the horizon she notes the soft haze of night breaking apart to make way for the rise of dawn.  There seemed to be no imminent danger, perhaps the blackness of her slumbers had evolved into nightmares at last?  It hardly surprised her, due to the overwhelming sense of loss and regret she'd been feeling lately, that maybe the plague of words left unspoken would come back to haunt her in her null dreams. For now, there would be no more sleep left to catch, and so she contradicts gravity's pull and raises herself skyward.  After a quick shake, she exits the cozy grotto that she had claimed as her own along the Nerinian coast.

The pace she set was near listless, walking the edge of the rolling waves tamed by the last of the moon's light.    The coolness of the shifting winds begins to warm around her with the promise of the rising sun, reflecting a muted orange off the ivory of her coat.  As she walked, her mind drifted lazily, but like an unwanted magnetic pull, it began to turn towards her last encounter with Leilan.  It was so easy for her thoughts to veer that way, but there was a stubborn refusal to tread down that path anymore; it was all in the past at this point, no sense in over thinking it now, she'd already done that plenty enough.  Forcibly shaking her pale crown to dislodge her internal musing in a different direction.  Thankfully having just completed her assignments with Tir, it wasn't as difficult to redirect herself this time.  She'd been gifted with "Empathic Echoes" for her performance, but the instructor had done little to elaborate what it had meant before he had vanished.

Stopping, Breckin shifted to watch the sunrise before turning back to the length of the beach in front of her again with lackluster eyes.  Yet they grew wider as she made out the blurred lines of silhouettes a short distance in front of her; they hadn't been there a moment ago.  The shapes were distinctly equine, though appeared encased in fog.  They made no sounds, yet their movements indicated rigidity and tension.  Attempting to get a better idea of what was happening, she took a hesitant step forward and the horses flickered.  Brows knit together in confusion,  perhaps the light of the sun was playing tricks on the mind.  "Hello?" she called loudly, but they ignored her, seemingly too caught up in whatever they were doing.  Another step and they flickered again.  Was she hallucinating?  Another step and she could feel the heavy weight of tension bearing down.  Still, the other horses continued on, and a dulled ringing began to resound in her ears.  "Is everything okay?" she asked of them, as their actions grew more agitated in appearance.  Again she braved another step closer, growing more concerned.  The ringing in her ears only intensified, and anxiety rose within her.  Her dark eyes narrowed against both the strange phenomenon and the rising pitch of the audible assault.  Anxiety wasn't foreign to her, so she paid it no mind until it shifted swiftly into panic then fear.  The ringing turned into a throbbing pulse drumming her ears, eyes widening as if searching for the source of the fear itself.  But the fear swarmed to emotional pain as quickly as it had come, and Breckin grimaced at the overwhelmingly sharp sensation.  Wincing now from the severity of it, she blinked back tears of frustration and sadness while the equine shadows danced in front of her.  Why was she feeling this?  How was she feeling this?  Yes, she'd felt these things before, who hasn't?  But this was that tenfold, as the pain grew physical, causing her muscles to twitch and cramp, and yet she could not find the means to flee.  Something was holding her there, somehow.  "What is happening?!" she screamed raggedly at the images, while the tears streamed freely; they did not answer her.  Anger and rage overtook the pain with heated retribution causing her teeth to clench and grind viciously.  The ache in her body grew numb while adrenaline filled her, she couldn't stop the narrowing of her eyes and the sharp panting breaths that came uncontrollably.  Breckin's body trembled as her mind tried to contradict what she was feeling;  it made no logical sense.  It was like her emotions were magnified, but how? Why?

"Stop!" she yelled at them, "Please STOP!"  A plea, a command--she couldn't tell anymore, didn't care anymore, it just had to end.  Her limbs still betrayed her, refusing to move away in spite of her usually strong will.  With no other options left, she closed her eyes tightly, wishing that whatever was happening would just end, by whatever means possible.  This was too much, too much to tolerate.

 When her eyes reopen, the illusions are no longer there, but the rage remains like a bitter plague.  Like the release of a gate, the tension in her muscles unwind and she spins towards the opposite direction kicking her momentum into an all-out gallop.  With a cliff quickly approaching, she slides to a halt in the grey sands.  She hadn't been aware as she ran, that her telekinesis had run rampant, drawing shells and stones to rise from the land as she passed where they had lain upon the ground.  They'd followed her, only stopping to hover woefully in the air around her as she stopped.  More tears ran fresh, and she sobbed with the overwhelming sense of residual grief and anger that dug its talons further into her vicelike.  Make it stop, it has to stop!

The wild emotions clouded her logic, and no answer came to her willingly.  The leopard mare felt her own personal frustration grow brighter, giving into rage's desires in the end.  With a rebellious scream, she threw the shells and stones alike at the cliff walls with a force she hadn't known she'd been capable of.  The sound of shattering was a mild balm, but it only lasted a second before burning away.  Another heave brought more shells from the sands, and again she threw them, not caring if she woke anyone in the previously quiet morning.

 A larger conch must've been caught in the fray; the forcible impact causing the heavy mass to fragment and recoil.  It was only when Breckin felt a new warmth in her chest and shoulder, followed by a burning and sharpness that she realized she'd been standing entirely too close.  Glancing down towards her right, she hissed at the severity of its appearance.  It was more than a flesh wound, but she would survive.  Lifting her eyes back upward, she sighs raggedly, realizing the rage had diminished in the injury's presence; though her body now felt cold and she trembled in the absence of the adrenaline's influence.

Exhaustion threatened to collapse her where she stood, so she made her way to the ashen colored cliffside, resting her forehead upon the jagged wall, welcoming the coolness it held.  She hardly felt the pain or the warmth of the blood that fell down her dotted leg anymore; it would dry in time and eventually the pain would fade too.  For now, she was simply grateful that whatever had overcome her had vanished.

It left her with a fresh sense of sadness and confusion, causing a new wave of tears to spill.  I deserve this.



OOC: She's sad and confused and could use some company XD

[Scorch]

She'd been there.

The nightmares, the pressure, the angst over a man - not because of bastard children, or cheating, or whatever she was going through; but her husband had sold himself to the devil, they had been apart for years, she knew lonesomeness and doubt and the chaos of a mind left loveless - she had been there. Waking up in the middle of the night with no one there to reassure her that it had just been a dream; seeing things in the Jungle that she half-heartedly chalked up to the leopard spirit at the time, though truthfully, she feared insanity. She'd been there, gods, how she'd been there...

And she would be there again.

But today, it was not her place to be the one suffering. Despite learning to overcome the defeat and sadness of infertility, Scorch was over all well, if not a little stressed for the wellbeing of Nerine. It's almost fate that, as she wandered during the early hours of this particular day, she found her Queen's namesake. Wishbone. The scent of ancient decay was subtly in the air, and it took some maneuvering for Scorch to align the tubes of marrow in such a way as to be able to read them (or at least, to decipher their meaning). A knot burrowed its way through her broad chest as oft it did in times of unrest in the kingdom; and indeed this was one of those times, though she suspected that she was the first of the Leviathans to truly discover just how unrested.

Swallowing (more than just spit; she swallowed disappointment and shame, she swallowed fear for one she considered a child and one whom she'd apprenticed; she swallowed fear for the future and a dread sea of hopelessness; she'd faced worse, she could do this...), Scorch turned away from the decorative and hollow goodbye, in search for she whom it indicated. Breckin needed to know; needed to know that she'd just inherited a throne. A crown. A kingdom.

It made sense, that it would be Breckin - Scorch would have chosen none other, had her advice been sought on the topic. But as of late, she had not been sought at all by her wild bay Khaleesi. It seemed as if no one would be again for quite sometime.

The sun just began rising as Scorch broke through the thin birch forest, tumbling collectedly on to the grey sand beach. Morning twilight. Her lips tugged downward at the thought, and like one who stood not two hundred yards ahead hurling sea shells at a rock wall, Scorch's powers came subconsciously to her side. All around her, beads of light and dark with the mass of pebbles flew, seemingly too quick for her to be able to evade the sting of their impact against her body; but they obeyed her even subconsciously, and so as she stalked, she appeared more as a whirling ball of light and dark than any equine. She would find it funny, if she knew about Breckin's most recent hallucination; but she didn't know, and she didn't find it funny.

Unsure of what exactly she felt, Scorch allowed her dragon eyes to see far ahead to where her unsuspecting queen threw the last of her seashell arsenal. Brows furrowing in concern, the mare hastened her step. By the time she neared, Breckin had her head resting against the rockface, sides gently heaving with a last round of sobs that Scorch could only guess at.

Leilan...?

Feeling helpless now that she had two topics to choose from, one being a rulership that Breckin had no clue or warning about, and the other being about her own damned son who she'd just essentially cut all ties with (by accident, though she had a knack for fucking things up with her children), Scorch halted some twenty feet away. Her whirling orb still surrounded her like a defensive cloak, and she kept it there for a moment longer, needing its shielding such that she could gather her thoughts; but in the end, she too sent her magicks into the rockface. The cliff responded with an ancient, tectonic groan, and with a tremour that left the mare feeling somewhat woozy; but the moment passed, and the time came for her to approach.

"Breckin..."

My Queen, she almost said. My son is crying over you, she almost said. Her eyes flashed purple, then green, then blue. She didn't know what to say. Biting her inner lips, the advisor tried to steel herself and to be stern such that she could just up and get this over with; but sometimes, ever fires must become embers, and sometimes, even leopards must become docile house cats.

"There is news. But you are not well." Scorch stepped closer, not meeting Breckin's gaze, nor reaching out to touch her, but rather standing alonside and slightly behind her as a mesenger or a servant might. Her tone would almost be bland, had it not been for her great show of emotion just a moment before. "Do what you must to collect yourself... For it the road ahead does not get easier, though I will be by you every step of the way."

[Breckin]

“Scorch,” she whispered, head still pressed firmly into the cliffside as if her body alone were the the only thing keeping the jagged wall from collapsing.  Rocky debris littered her ivory mane, unwilling to move away even as the force of the bald mare’s power met with the unyielding rockface.  It had groaned in protest, and still it hadn’t been enough to dislodge the leopard woman.  The pattering of stones upon the broad of her back went largely unnoticed.  It’s possible, she could have deflected the unintentional blows—who knows?--but at that moment she had been simply unbothered.

Inexplicably, she had sensed her company before could recognize who it had been.  Where her own sadness and confusion had been before, Breckin could nearly tangibly taste the shift of emotions baring down upon her.  There was confusion yet still, and sadness even, but there was also concern and disappointment that were not her own, or at least she didn’t think so.  However would she manage the empathic echoes Tir had granted her with.  Surely there had to be a way to control it.

There is news. But you are not well.

She wanted to sigh, but found her eyes closing tightly instead, at least for the briefest of moments.  Breckin’s voice is thickly hoarse with strained emotions when she is able to find it at last, ”I’m well enough to hear kingdom business.”  Pretty words and pretty lies once again, only difference this time was that she was lying to herself and she was well aware of it.  Snuff out the pain and choke it down, this is no longer the time for self-pity and loathing.  Calling on the deepest parts of her reserves, she regains her poise, releasing her hold on the cliffside and raising her head upright.

With a steely gaze, her deepening eyes search for her mentor’s, somewhat reluctant meet with the vibrant eyes that bore so much resemblance to Leilan’s; eyes that had held so much pain and anger the last time she had looked into them.  But she finds the wizened Amazon’s vivid eyes all the same, meeting them evenly as she turns to face her directly.

"What can I do to be of service?"


And standing there, awaiting to hear what news could warrant Scorch's last words of promise, she is the epitome of false composure.



@[Scorch]

[Scorch]

In the wake of the ancient one's assault on the rockface, the unsuspecting queen only shut her eyes harder. This left a silence between them once Scorch's prelude reached Breckin's ears, a silence that Scorch knew Breckin used to compose herself - what she didn't know was the extent to which Breckin had to work to attain said composure, what with her newfound gift (or shall we call it a curse?). Regardless, the mutilated mare awaited Breckin's reaction patiently; although she had her suspicions about what distressed the leopard mare so greatly, she knew that whatever it was, she had no right to rush Breckin forward from the pain of her suffering.

I'm well enough to hear kingdom business.
If only you knew, child... If only you knew.

Scorch's tongue ran over her lips, readying them to deliver the heavy new, when Breckin straightened. The Dosh paused her words, watching keenly as the tormented figure raised her gaze, its depths a shade of slate-blue that Scorch had never before seen. Steeled. A part of Scorch knew that that would be their usual hue from now own, but she reassured herself that, even at the worst of times (in wars and in natural disasters and in mourning), there happened to be abundant joy in the ruling of a kingdom.

Words from her conversation with Heartfire suddenly came to the mare: given how things stand now, you may have done a sight better. With a clench of her gut that left her feeling shriveled, she momentarily imagined not telling Breckin of what she'd seen, instead going back to the sign and tearing it down, and then reclaiming Nerine as she had every right to. But the seize passed, and she exhaled a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. What she'd responded to her granddaughter with still held true, even now, in the changing of leaders: she served best as second in command.

What can I do to be of service?

"I am going to be blunt, Breckin." She didn't blink, holding her long-ago recruit's gaze with the intensity of one who's about to deliver news like hers. "Wishbone has disappeared, and left Nerine to you. There is a sign, in the northern forest. I can take you to it if you'd like."

She paused, wanting to make some offhand joke but not knowing how to; without reason, her argument with Leilan made an appearance in her mind's eye, leaving her all the more somber. Still, she fought against the downpour of negativity, struggling to retain her resilience; her lips, cracked and charred, lilted up into a smile, though it did not come even close to reaching her eyes.

"But as it is, I now bow to you, Khaleesi Breckin." She bent a knee, and stooped, though only slightly; it was more of a gesture than a true kneel. She straightened without much pause. "Though I would recommend keeping me as an advisor." Here, her smile did widen some; but she dropped this thread of conversation as her mind drifted elsewhere.

Before Breckin could reply - perhaps even cutting her off - Scorch's voice leapt back into the space between them, a more urgent tone ringing therein. "Breckin," a pause, a frown. "Whatever is going on right now - outside of the crown newly bestowed on your head - I want you to know that you can tell me." The wind whipped at what scraggles remained of her mane, salt from the ocean's spray stinging her skin where it landed. "I brought you here, and I've watched you grow. I don't intend on stopping."

@[Breckin]

[Breckin]

Breckin

the truth that you'll find
will always be the truth you hide

Pulsating thoughts that had just moments before run rampant had lapsed into a dulled silence while, attentive ears shifted further forward.  At least for the time being, she had something to focus on other than herself, perhaps she could drown out her own problems in lieu of more pressing kingdom matters.  It was a small hope, but one she clung to desperately all the same; it could be a saving grace and welcomed escape from the most recent onslaught of her inner tumult.

The severity in which Scorch’s instense gaze held onto her own should have been an indicator of the news she was about to receive.  And the rising dull ache of pressure behind her eyes should have been the second.  Call it being outright oblivious or unwilling to acknowledge the obvious in its most basic form, she ignored them.  Both phenomenon could have multiple reasons for occurring anyway.

Wishbone has disappeared, and left Nerine to you.

To her, it felt as though her own problems and the kingdom’s had just become one in the same.  Dark eyes threaten to blink themselves clear of tears that are no longer there, but instead flutter lightly in what could easily be perceived as a wince.  For a moment she only stares absently at the very woman who had recruited her to Nerine, watching with a slight furrowed brow as she dips into a shallow kneel.  It would physically take an effort to break that now long held gaze, but she does just that, turning to trace the line of the horizon in the distance, as if searching for the answers the leopard mare didn’t know she was even looking for.

The older she grew, the more she came to realize that some parts of your life you just could not prepare for nor prevent—they just happened, they just existed, they just were.  And it was your reaction to them that spoke the loudest in the absence of or even in the most raucous of carefully picked words.

The eyes that train back to where Scorch waits patiently nearby hold nothing short of resolute determination; she would accept the ever changing shift in the winds for what it was.

”I would like to see it,” she says at last, not waiting for Scorch’s response before moving in the direction towards where the bald mare had come.  It wasn’t that she doubted her friend’s words, but a nagging sensation at the back of her mind’s eye was practically compulsing her limbs forward without much resistance.

Breckin slows my her should, reaching a whiskered muzzle to graze lightly against her barren skin, a small smile finally finding its way back to her dark lips.  ”I wouldn’t want anyone else to stand beside me for this journey.”

At that she continues to move down the shoreline, presumably with Scorch now leading to where Wishbone left her last decree as queen.  Breckin lets a quick silence fall, thinking on how best to address what the other mare had said; it wasn’t that the spotted woman had pointedly ignored Scorch’s offer, it was just a matter of how best to openly admit her heart and mind’s chaos to someone other than herself.

”Along with my telekinesis, I have been gifted or cursed by the fae for being the victor of a recent quest.  I’ve yet to gain control of it, but it seems as though I can feel other’s emotions, and perhaps see an image of the event.  Or I may just be going crazy.”  She spares a quick sideways glance before adding, ”And I’m in love with Leilan.”

your world is still lacking of me, how do you love?

@[Scorch]

[Scorch]

Throughout Scorch's words, Breckin's eyes stayed glued elsewhere; they rested along the horizon of the blue ocean, but  Scorch knew that the leopard mare watched other scenes playing just behind her eyes. Considering that she hadn't known about the passing of the crown until now, her previous emotional outburst - the assault of the rockface, the way she allowed it to return the favour - Scorch could only guess that something else was going on behind the scenes.

This added weight couldn't possibly be helping; and yet, Breckin raised her head and spoke in the even voice of any queen. Without hesitation, Scorch turned and began leading the other towards the sign, not wanting to lend the mentally fractured creature any reason to postpone her rise to leadership. The mare's head buzzed with thoughts and questions and concerns as they went along in relative silence, but she suppressed them. This wasn't how one usually wanted to ascend, though in fact, it rarely went the way you wanted. Kagerou died, Quark disappeared, Echion died, Brunhild hid in an effort not to die - and Scorch, too, had died.

The Amazon's seemed to have a particular knack for passing the crown in awful ways.

Breckin slowed momentarily during their journey, reaching out to reassure Scorch that she'd always keep her by her side. Scorch met the other's blue gaze, a half smile lilting her lips; but otherwise, she made no other response. She didn't need gratitude or reaffirmation to be loyal to the Leviathans. The small rose-and-vine on the right side of her breast spoke those words each and every day.

They neared the sign as Breckin suddenly began explaining her situation to Scorch. At the words she spoke, the Dosh couldn't repress a harsh laugh and then a softer, deeper chuckle trailing after it. Her head shook gently, eyes finding Breckin's. It felt good, knowing that there could still be light heartedness between them. "Remember when I told you about my quest, about gifts and curses?" She wiggled her hairless brows indicatively. "Ah, I'm sorry you had to endure the same thing. But you aren't going crazy." Here, the mare reached out herself, touching Breckin's shoulder reassuringly. "Magics come with time, and before you know it, it will be as much a part of yourself as the skin you wear to cloak your muscles."

And I'm in love with Leilan.

"Chkkk--"

...

"Ahem. Well, I'm guessing that's why he was throwing the world's biggest temper tantrum earlier this week in the meadow." She pulled a sheepish grin, halting in a seemingly random spot within the birchwood forest. "Honestly, I think you would be lovely together, if he'd just smarten up a little. But I digress - the fact that my child's drama is now a part of my queen's drama is." She laughed awkwardly. "Not my favourite."

Heavy sigh.

"But, if you look -" She cast her eyes towards the carefully arranged bones, wondering if Breckin would see the same message that she'd had, "- there is the sign."

@[Breckin]
We can end it here or you can post a wrap up post! This is probably my last answer though with college starting on wednesday