"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
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
When the meeting breaks, Lagertha remains, calling out to the dissipating sisters, “Anyone currently in the army, or interested in joining, stay behind.”
The general moves against the tide and positions herself where Scorch just recently stood. The cub is nowhere to be seen, but that is to be expected, she thinks. All of a sudden, her head starts to itch at the base of her new horns and she lowers it, to scratch against her foreleg. Right between the… ahhhhh… yes. Much better. They will grow to be impressive things, wide and ridged and sharp at the end, eventually curving around to point forward a bit. But for now, the growth simply itches.
To the newcomers and the young ones, she offers a reserved, but genuine smile (remember, Rhy loves her for her thorniness), and asks them their names and why they want to join the Army. To the ones she knows, she offers a nod and greets them by name, but says no more. If she didn’t already know what it was like to have a disappointing child, she might imagine this is a similar feeling. As it is, she knows, and this is something more than that.
I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star...
Pomona had stood near the gray General during the meeting and when Lagertha calls the warriors, she tails her toward the front of the area. She notices that the horned mare takes the spot that the Khaleesi had stood but she doesn't mention it as she digs one hoof into the ground nervously. She can't know what Lagertha is feeling, the disappointment, but Pomona knows that her words had to have prickled the General. She knows too, or thinks she does, that the Amazonian Army is but a wisp of smoke where there should be a raging fire.
Thinking that she should say something before too many gather close, she murmurs, "What I said at the meeting was true. I'm no real warrior. But I haven't forgotten that I joined the army and I won't..." Her voice faded a moment before she went on awkwardly, "...abandon you or my duties so long as my offer isn't taken up by the Khaleesi." The mare was gifted with neither a way with words or the strong will of a warrior. If there was a rank for motherly love, she would fit right in, but otherwise she felt like a bit of hair going the wrong way.
Her huge wings made of golden light, both beautiful and dangerous, were stowed along her back in a harmlessly amorphic blanket. More often than not that was how they stayed, pretty and glowing but mostly underused. Her feminine eyes looked up at Lagertha as if to see what reaction she could expect from the General, but quickly looked away, having trouble meeting her eye as other mares approached to join the meeting.
If horses had eyebrows, the iron mares would be raised at the call of this Lagertha but since they don't, Prague's proverbial ones are raised. It is all so new to her, albeit unexplainably familiar. Her entire life right now feels like an oxymoron and in turn, makes her feel like a moron. The iron mare feels the need to head the call and finds her newfound welcomer, Pomona, in company of Lagertha. Prague makes an assestment of her - strong. Strong willed, strong body, strong heart; she simply feels it. How can she feel anything about someone else?
"Pomona, nice to see you again. Army? I'm not sure how things work around here but I'll do my best to learn. I've never fought anyone," she says with an honest tone, her black ears flicking back in concentration - had she fought before? Only two alliances. "I'm Prague, I'll dedicate myself to your cause...what's your name again?" she asks but she has no idea Lagertha's name nor her mother whom she grew up hearing stories about. She's only getting smarter in covering up her tracks.
As the meeting is adjourned Lagertha takes the moment to collect those in the army. Many of the sisters abandon their post and cluster past Nayl as she stands quietly, like a sentinel. She is growing up; no longer a gangly foal she finds herself far more stable and comfortable in her prowess. Although still young, she is at least becoming more appealing and less awkward.
That same passion inside her heart are flames in her autumn eyes. They search across the faces calculatingly before settling onto the General and moving toward her. As of yet there are only two others in attendance. Forcing a smile across her face she introduces herself to them: "I'm Nayl." There is nothing impressive behind her name, no signature of royalty anymore. With her tattoos stripped away she feels naked and irrelevant. The potential and the power is still in your blood, mother had said, but that wasn't enough. The world cannot see what rushes in her veins (though some wouldn't even care). Nayl is clinging tightly to her bloodline and she aims to meet their greatness.
With a placid glance to Pomona, Nayl takes her into observation. "You can be taught. Don't discount yourself; just push yourself." There is little truth in her words. There is actually shame burning in her mind upon hearing Pomona admit to her short comings and faults. Fortunately, for Nayl, her mind is a brick wall to all others. No one can pry open the locks to her thoughts no matter how hard they may try. To them, her mind is an endless abyss that can easily be fallen into without ever seeing an end.
If only she knew.
If only she knew how powerful of a weapon it could be.
With innocent gold-orange eyes she turns back to Lagertha. "Can we mock or something like that?" This is only the beginning of her climb up the ladder.
07-27-2015, 03:59 AM (This post was last modified: 07-27-2015, 04:39 AM by Lyris.)
When the meeting adjourns, she stays behind, orange-flecked eyes fastened on Lagertha’s face. She is curious to see what the grey general had meant when she spoke of restructuring the army ranks.
She stays silent and waits (though notes with some surprise the smile on Lagertha’s face) and turns her eyes to look at the rest of the army members. She remembers both Pomona and Nayl, having seen both mares at previous kingdom meetings. But this new grey mare is definitely a newcomer. Lyris has never seen her before.
Pomona speaks up first, in a tremulous tone not truly befitting a member of the army. But, Lyris supposes it takes all types. A willing, if weak body, is better than no body at all. The grey speaks up second, calling herself Prague. There’s something about her that Lyris can’t quite figure out. Something about the name itself … it seems familiar. But she can’t figure it out, so she puts it from her mind.
Nayl speaks up last, inquiring after mocks, and Lyris finally sees fit to chime in. “I’m always up for a mock.” It would be good to test her mettle against this younger sister - it’ll help keep her sharp.
Finally, her gaze returns to Lagertha. The mare has something to say to them and Lyris is interested to hear it, though she’s sure some of it won’t be pleasant.
Lyris
I’ll burn this whole city down
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Btw, if you do want to mock, would it be alright if we hold it off until I get back from my trip?
there's a moment we make a decision
not to cower and crash to the ground
The meeting crowd thins and a mare calls for the army to hang back. Being that she's just pledged herself part of said army, Valkerine obeys, lingering near the grey mare and the others who gather. She is both young and new – not the gangly, embarrassing youth of a foal, but a far cry from adulthood. She is a strong girl, with a body built for battle. Her mother's daughter through and through, from her chestnut coat to her unremarkable brown eyes.
She joins the group among the last, and as she looks them over in this smaller group, she notices Nayl's eyes for the first time. Her own eyes go wide with realization – because how could it be anything else? Those eyes are her father's signature, passed down to her sister, and apparently passed down to this girl as well. If she weren't still half-numb with loss she might've stopped dead in her tracks or reacted strongly, questioning the girl as she introduces herself. But as it is, Val does little but catalogue the information and wait for another, more appropriate time to approach the girl about it. Nayl, she reminds herself, Nayl.
At that moment the conversation falls a bit, and Valkerine realizes she's the only one who hasn't introduced herself. "I'm Valkerine." she offers simply. "I want to join the army to help defend the jungle." That's a major motivation, but it's far from the only one. She wants to join the army because fighting is in her blood, because she hopes that the training exercises, the clash of bodies will help drive the memory of the bodies of her mother and her father, dead on the beach. She wants to join the army because she doesn't know how to pace herself, because she can't serve a kingdom without giving herself to it, heart and soul. She wants to join the army because she is her mother's daughter, because she is her father's daughter – because the army is the only place she should ever be at home.
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
Lagertha waits. It shouldn’t take too long for everyone who is still interested to assemble. There are a few marked absences, of course - Malka, for one, who will be stripped of her rank, and Nyryn and Vyx, whom she had recruited. Oh well. She’s learned over the years to not get her hopes up regarding recruits until they’ve been around for awhile. Even then, some of the older sisters were prone to vanishing, just like Pomona and Prague. She cannot feel the shame, per se, that rolls of Pomona, but the mare seems sheepish when she follows Lagertha to the meeting. Which is odd, she thinks, for the gray warrior has never chastised her sister. If anything, she has encouraged Pomona to learn to defend herself and to use those unique wings of hers as more than wings, if need be. Diplomats usually traveled safely in Beqanna, but danger still lurked around every other tree. Lagertha offers her as kind a smile as she can, which is rare, saying, “Sometimes we must be warriors of the heart, if not the hoof. Do not be ashamed or discouraged about your nature. If Scorch takes you up on your offer, then use your wings to protect the Falls, if need be. Remember what we practiced, Pomona.”
It is about as motherly as she gets, and Lagertha quickly turns to the next arriving sister. To her great surprise, it is Prague. Last she had seen the mare, she had been in silver lioness form and the two had been at the very beginning of plotting something… She stares (mostly in surprise) at the lighter gray mare and swallows, confused by the other’s forgetfulness. “Prague. You know me... I’m Lagertha. You disappeared about ten years ago, right after we were talking about…” she trails off, unwilling to say just exactly what they were discussing. Overthrowing Scorch, she thinks instead, hoping the magician will be able to pick up on the need for secrecy and discretion. “Anyway. If you find you need a complete refresher, you can mock with one of the younger sisters, or with me.”
She nods to Lyris and the two youngsters, Nayl and Valkerine. Nayl she’d met, and had a feeling she was a fellow ambitious young lady. Valkerine, however, is completely new, and so Lagertha flashes her a quick, tight-lipped grin and nod. She waits a few more minutes, for any stragglers, but it seems like this is it. This is the great Amazonian Army. While the iron lady isn’t surprised that so few show up, she finds it encouraging that younger members are present. “Everyone will be starting again from the first rank except Lyris, who has a promotion. As I said before, I am looking for someone else to earn the second pair of wings, and once Lyris has control of her weather flight, she will pass on her wings as well. The more we have in our air force, the better. Whomever become head of the Air Force will be my second-in-command and have sole direction of that force should we ever go into battle.” If only they had more who were born with wings. Those individuals were lucky enough to learn it from foalhood. The rest of them had a more awkward and probably more terrifying trial and error period.
“As for mocks - Nayl and Valkerine, you two practice together. So Prague, you work with Lyris. If you have traits, feel free to use them, or not, it’s up to you. But remember that in battle, everyone will use what they have to their advantage.We need to be able to both trust and challenge each other. I hope to be able to work as a team, eventually. With the magic prohibitions removed from half of the kingdoms, we no longer have a distinct advantage.”
Lagertha pauses, the base of her new horns itching again. Fucking things were going to eventually be useful, but right now, the growth was slightly annoying. “And if any of you would like to mock with me, I’m happy to do that as well. And just for shits and giggles, I’d like everyone to try a steal. Ok… any questions?” The General’s dark eyes find each sister in turn, stern because that’s the way Lagertha simply is, and yet open, because she had some genuine hope that these ladies would not disappear. And if they did, that it would not be for too long.
