01-19-2020, 11:45 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-19-2020, 11:46 AM by Neverwhere.)
Freedom for one mare, chains for another. Neverwhere takes up the responsibility she had never desired and Lilliana, always searching for her purpose, comes to shed the weight her family - and Life, and Lilli, herself - has draped across her shoulders. That one land can mean such different things is a surprising realization for her when no land has meant anything to her before at all. All the country she has passed through, those mountains and deserts and riverlands, none whispered to her the way Nerine does, hooking small tendrils into her soul like climbing ivy. She could tear it away, tear herself away, but there would be scars, now.
Of course, scars hold no fear for her, not real ones, but the emotional ones she has not prepared for. She was so well guarded from those little hurts, there had been no time for them in her earliest years, but now? Now she must rebuild a kingdom that barrels towards conflict and there is more than a small part of her that screams to leave it. Leave it and run. There is nothing natural about these kingdoms and their politics, and nobody to stop her. Let them have their magic and their war and their ridiculous adherence to invisible boundaries, she could drop it all and leave as others have done before her. There is a battle deep within her, to stay or go, and neither side pulling ahead.
When a shoulder brushes feather light against her, she does not need to look to know who it is, but any thought of running falls away like leaves from autumn trees. No one else in this place would touch her, not so easily. Nobody else who knew her would tell her a story like that, or ask her such a question. And from no one else would she tolerate it, even humor it, if only for a moment.
"I think the Amazons should have kept to jungles, it seems to me that they broke apart on the cliffs."
Perhaps the real truth is that they broke apart when their Jungle was destroyed, because what came to Nerine to rebuild was a patchwork - lost souls that drifted together, that stitched themselves together with those aspirations that Lilli mentions. They built on ashes, on memory, and for their effort they were rendered nothing more than memories themselves. Nothing left but the stories, now. She shakes her head against the legends that Lilliana tries to build in her head. They might be glorious and golden, but they aren't real. They aren't true, not really, told and retold and built into something magical and infallible.
Still, she can feel the draw to such perfect, clean, stories, the satisfaction when everything resolves exactly the way you want it. But Life is messy, and kingdoms are worse. Nev exhales audibly, one pale eye focusing hard on Lilli, but she says nothing more of her thoughts on the subject. They both know that the crimson mare has experienced her share of that mire, and perhaps her escapism into such fairy tales is not so far from Neverwhere's own reliance on her ability to simply leave it all behind.
"Busy. And angry," she pauses a moment before adding, "Only one of those is new."
Self reflection is not beyond her, after all. She has always been aware of her moods and tendencies, she simply has no desire to change. She sidesteps, putting enough space between them so that she can touch her muzzle to the golden flame on Lilli's shoulder.
"This is new. What else?"
Of course, scars hold no fear for her, not real ones, but the emotional ones she has not prepared for. She was so well guarded from those little hurts, there had been no time for them in her earliest years, but now? Now she must rebuild a kingdom that barrels towards conflict and there is more than a small part of her that screams to leave it. Leave it and run. There is nothing natural about these kingdoms and their politics, and nobody to stop her. Let them have their magic and their war and their ridiculous adherence to invisible boundaries, she could drop it all and leave as others have done before her. There is a battle deep within her, to stay or go, and neither side pulling ahead.
When a shoulder brushes feather light against her, she does not need to look to know who it is, but any thought of running falls away like leaves from autumn trees. No one else in this place would touch her, not so easily. Nobody else who knew her would tell her a story like that, or ask her such a question. And from no one else would she tolerate it, even humor it, if only for a moment.
"I think the Amazons should have kept to jungles, it seems to me that they broke apart on the cliffs."
Perhaps the real truth is that they broke apart when their Jungle was destroyed, because what came to Nerine to rebuild was a patchwork - lost souls that drifted together, that stitched themselves together with those aspirations that Lilli mentions. They built on ashes, on memory, and for their effort they were rendered nothing more than memories themselves. Nothing left but the stories, now. She shakes her head against the legends that Lilliana tries to build in her head. They might be glorious and golden, but they aren't real. They aren't true, not really, told and retold and built into something magical and infallible.
Still, she can feel the draw to such perfect, clean, stories, the satisfaction when everything resolves exactly the way you want it. But Life is messy, and kingdoms are worse. Nev exhales audibly, one pale eye focusing hard on Lilli, but she says nothing more of her thoughts on the subject. They both know that the crimson mare has experienced her share of that mire, and perhaps her escapism into such fairy tales is not so far from Neverwhere's own reliance on her ability to simply leave it all behind.
"Busy. And angry," she pauses a moment before adding, "Only one of those is new."
Self reflection is not beyond her, after all. She has always been aware of her moods and tendencies, she simply has no desire to change. She sidesteps, putting enough space between them so that she can touch her muzzle to the golden flame on Lilli's shoulder.
"This is new. What else?"
Neverwhere
...
@[lilliana]
