"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
07-11-2019, 11:24 PM (This post was last modified: 07-11-2019, 11:25 PM by Camdyn.)
it's HELL on earth and the city's on FIRE
Most people have something to live for. Something to die for.
Camdyn didn’t.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did, after all, have his sister. Other than his twin, his only connection to any sort of love and understanding, he didn’t have a goal, he didn’t have a family he even cared about—an exception to his twin, the one person in the world he cherished and looked after. His single weakness. Only she could have his friendship, and it was only her that Cam trusted. He needed nothing to survive. Only his sister.
It is bliss, pure bliss, he can no longer hear any thoughts but his own. For so long he and his twin sister had been tied together ever since they had met that witch on the mountain side. Linked together and forced to hear every single thought that popped into the other’s mind, whether they wished it to be private or otherwise. Distance made no difference, but perhaps the worst was sharing each other’s dreams. His thoughts Camdyn could, for the most part, control, keeping them in the dark crevices of his mind, but he lost all forms of control when he slipped into a slumber. But for once, there was nothing, and Camdyn finds himself smiling for a single, fleeting moment, before continuing onwards, lost in the quiet of his mind.
Stumbling into the field is entirely by accident. Anger and restlessness run through Camdyn’s veins, it has been far too long since he has done something fruitful, something violent and passionate. For so long, on the inside, Camdyn had wished to run, to leave the kingdom behind, leave his father, his idiotic mother, and all their half siblings behind, even leave his twin sister behind, but he didnt, until now of course. But, then again, he took her with him. Perhaps the one single person who can coax anything from Camdyn, a smile, a laugh, he couldn't leave her to the wolves they call their parents. For so long he had been able to do nothing and to a certain extent he was like a lion—chained to the bars of his enclosure and there had been a piece that he was too in love with to escape from.
But now, there was freedom, or some semblance of it. So why is it he wanders, teeth gritted together, his head held low with his ears snaked back against his head pausing now and then to breath in deeply and strike his hooves into the icy ground. He is wild and beautiful, like a storm.
Red coat is a vibrant splash against the monotone landscape. It is like blood on snow. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be back home, but he didn't want to here either. Brown eyes search the landscape but it would seem his twin was elsewhere and Camdyn couldn't be bothered to look for her, she would find him when she needed or wanted him. They never seemed to be able to wander far from each other, even as children, they were often seen side by side. Camdyn poked fun a by his brothers for spending all his time with a girl, while his father tried to physically separate them, only for them to fall back with each other like magnets. No, they never seemed to be able to stay away from each other for long.
Dark eyes spot the falls up ahead, his feet crunch the snow that gives way to the weight beneath him. He is tired, he is bored, he is hungry, and none of these things present an easy and ready made solution, so now he grows irritated.
It would be right about now his mother would probably suggest that maybe he should take a nap.
An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind
To leave Loess is a stretch. Cyprin has confined herself to the family’s cave, but a sudden kiss of boldness was pressed on her brow this morning that inched her from the security of her kin.
It brought her here, to an open field where she has heard the homeless congregate. To bring someone home, to assist in Loess’ continued success, spurs a sudden bout of hope in her young heart. She glances back over her shoulder a couple times, considering that she may have made a mistake, but she presses on through the wintry gales. Her warm breath spirals from her nostrils as she treads carefully across the snow, meticulously eyeing her footsteps as she crests hills and eludes rocks and shrubs. Where in the field she is to go, she isn’t quite certain. This is all new and while it rattles her nerves, it also sparks an inner excitement that approaches the adrenaline rush when she witnessed the war outbreak in Tephra.
Except this isn’t quite so violent.
She doesn’t stop until her fallen gaze notices hooves in front of her. Wide-eyed, she jerks her head up, tousling her locks. ”Oh, hello!” It was in poor taste to not watch where she was going, but the snow held so many secrets that enticed her to never look away. Without realizing, the field passed her by with hardly any notice. ”My apologies,” she murmurs with a sheepish grin as snowflakes fall across her back. Her reptilian eyes flash – the only trademark that signifies her lineage – but they adopt a complimenting shade of blue as she drinks in the sight of him.
Her pretty face lights up and smiles underneath the dappled sunlight. It reflects from the porcelain snow and dances across her softened expression. ”I’m Cyprin,” her voice is honey and sweet, hiding what insecurities she has by having left home for the very first time.
07-12-2019, 12:40 PM (This post was last modified: 07-12-2019, 12:48 PM by Ilma.)
Ilma
And there's a lesson waiting to be learned the firestarters always get the burns and the good guys never get the girl
Some people have nothing to live for. They think they’re superfluous, their actions nothing more than a spin in a wheel that keeps coming back to what it was before.
She knows better. Yes, there are repetitive patterns in life; as clear as she can see her own past, she also sees future. But the future is endless and has many possibilities, none of them the same. Actions and reactions differ each time, and the angel-like mare simply doesn’t choose to go after it any more. She’s spent a large enough time in her cave secluded away, in Hyaline or even on the Mountain. She let the world pass by, plagued by visions of the past and the future.
And in the end, she decided that it doesn’t matter if she participates or not. The only thing that matters is how she feels about it, if she can live with it.
The arrival of the cranky male and the insecure girl at the half-frozen pond doesn’t bother the white-and-light mare. Her own wings are lit only dimly, her form hard to see in the distance because of the lack of a colour difference between her body and the snow. So she simply takes her drink, waiting for him to come close and for her to nearly bump into him. There is hardly anything else to do while waiting either way.
She lifts her head when they are within talking distance, and nods to them. ”Good day.” It is a greeting that she would have given any acquaintance, as if she already knew the both of them and it would be perfectly normal for them to greet one another. As if the bump never happened (she's seen it maybe half of the times she saw this meeting happen). In her mind, she already knows them - knows the way that he could, if that was the path he chose now, snap at her, and knows how he could also choose to simply introduce himself; he could even just stare at her in one of the millions of possible futures, or demand explanations which she wouldn’t bother to give if he chose to ask nicely. It is the same way in which she knows the girl - knows how she could, possibly, show a tiny bit of her lineage. Cyprin gets a smile as well; encouragingly so, even.
She knows lots of things, things that could happen, things that will. But like many other points in time, this is a breaking point - someone needs to choose something, for the future to start to happen. Sometimes the choices are limited, or one is more likely than the other (like his choice to even go here), and those common choices are ones that Ilma doesn’t bother with. But sometimes the choices are of more impact, and judging from the lines these two can create from here on, she would say that these choices made today, are pretty important.
and shooting stars cannot fix the world
Excuse me while the ex-hermit goes full-oracle ^^
@Camdyn
tag removed and added, after edit because @[Cyprin] beat me to this by just 1 minute lmao
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
Camdyn, the crimson stallion, is an old soul. But he is himself in all the sense that he can be. If that made any sense. But there is something burrowing beneath his chest that breaks all lines of rights and wrongs. Maybe it is just the feeling of being in a new place and the afternoon sun playing with his head and his heart.
If he has one.
No, no, Camdyn has a heart he does. The red head just hasn’t learned how to use it yet, he doesn’t understand how to use it. A strange and complicated device a heart it. It can love, and even through its love it can destroy, it can hate as well through that love. He cannot see the benefits of this heart, but he can also not see the downfalls. That’s what saves him from giving it up and abandoning it. He has it here because he understands it’s importance in the future. Cam was no airhead. But maybe that is just the old should talk. He needs a younger and fresher one, this one has been around for far to long.
The silence in his head was like the chiming of drums, relentlessly pounding at his skull, again and again, beating and beating constantly there. He could not shake it away, and placing himself in the middle of the busiest street would not drown it out. He knew what it was, a constant tone in his head. It was loneliness kicking in again, Cam had never been the type to depend on company, he did not feed of the interactions he made, and did not live to talk and socialize. In fact anyone who knew him would say that Cam went out of his way to avoid contact with other life. Maybe he should try smiling more, but every time he would force a smile onto his lips, instead of lighting his face up brightly and making him seem friendly he looked as if he were grimacing. Camdyn quickly gave up on smiling, it was not a thing he did often and he wasn’t about to start now. He wasn't talkative either so even as he sees the other mingling, he doesn't bother trying, brown eyes rolling away from the crowd’s direction.
The damp, cold air of early spring attempted to chill him right to the bone, but Camdyn was accustomed to such weather, having been born to the elements. Those dark eyes watch as a girl approaches him. Interesting. This certainly wasn't home. “I do not require an apology,” he says bluntly. He sounds cruel, but truth was, Camdyn was far kinder than his father, and many of the other stallions within his herd. “Camdyn,” the one word from his lips. But it would seem this mare would not be the last to join him on this day.
“I would call it a cold day,” he says, those brown eyes moving to her direction. He makes no effort to smile, neither of these were his twin sister, so he imagines he can get away with it. “Camdyn,” he says once more. “I didn't catch your name,” he says, that dark gaze directed at the newest of the newcomers to this…gathering. He scowls, his only emotion he seemed to be able to wear, with that famous look of indifference. “I am from out of town.” It was a start to conversation, at the very least.
An old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind
There’s another that joins them and draws Cyprin’s full attention. The mare’s ethereal appearance draws a smile across the girl’s face as she observes in fascination as she comes to a fluid halt among them. She could illuminate the darkest of corners and the most sadistic of souls. Without realizing, Cyprin’s eyes ripple to match Ilma’s coloration. ”Hello,” she replies airily as a gale tousles her locks and shifts them from her view. Her slit pupils contract in scrutiny before they dart back to Camdyn as he shortly introduces himself. ”A pleasure,” she offers sweetly as a chill runs down the length of her spine. The lack of love for winter seems to be genetic, as her parents are similarly drawn to the heat. Her brother, even, prefers the sun baking against his back over the frigid bites of a winter gale.
Cyprin’s eyes shift to an icy blue as Camdyn comments on the chill, and her head nods in agreement. ”I’m not a fan,” her confession is quiet, not even warranted because the statement was more rhetorical than anything. But she tries to fill the void of quiet with conversation, as one often does when nervous. This being her first time in the field shows in her bright, eager eyes as they dance from one face to another. She wants so bad to hear the woman’s name, to know what someone so surreal could possibly be called, but Camdyn admits to being new and Cyprin cannot help to focus on him again.
It's a daunting idea to imagine loneliness in such a large world. She cannot picture herself without her siblings and parents only an arm’s length away.
Cyprin’s brows furrow slightly as a frown threatens to shadow her pretty face. ”Welcome then!” She begins, forcing a smile to return with the wave of exuberance. ”There are so many places you could explore,” she pauses as she nearly forgets her motive in coming here, ”and one of those places is Loess. That’s where I am. It’s quite a bit warmer there than it is here.” She doesn’t mention the war or the chaos that broke out in recent years because it no longer affects the integrity of the kingdom. ”It’s a nice place, I think, with a lot of room for growth and conversation if that’s what interests you.” There are soldiers and diplomats, families and friends. In her ever-changing eyes, Loess seems a paradise.
The mare doesn’t know Camdyn nor Cyprin, and yet she already met them in several of the future’s possibilities. It makes for an odd meeting now that it is present becoming past, but only from Ilma’s point of view. She smiles a bit at the male’s remark that it’s a cold day, adding lightly: ”I still wish that it is also a good day for you.” She gives him a nod, turning to the girl with the reptilian eyes. ”And for you.”
She listens to the male and female conversing; seeing that he is quite rude and she is quite delicate, she stays. ”I’m Ilma,” she says to his not-so-much-a-question; perhaps it’s more so that Cyprin knows. Though she can’t know if her name was ever spoken in Loess, she feels like the more timid young mare has some sort of right to knowing.
Cyprin, she quickly finds out, is here to recruit. Now, Ilma doesn’t know if her sunshine and rainbow vision of Loess is true nor does she expect Camdyn to be drawn to it when presented like that, but it seems to the older mare that perhaps Cyprin is going a little too fast. Most horses, in Ilma’s experience, after a life on their own are picky about where they go - and to know how to present one’s kingdom or territory to them, you need to know them.
So it is that she lets Cyprin finish, and immediately addresses the male after that. ”There are many options indeed. My home has been Hyaline for most of my life in Beqanna, but kingdoms and territories change a little or a lot with each new leader. What kind of home are you looking for, Camdyn? A family home for example, or more of a place to strengthen yourself?”
Hurry, the sun is waking Darling, don't leave me waiting
@[Camdyn] @[Cyprin] sorry if this is garbage :’)
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
