06-27-2021, 10:22 PM
a bright and dangerous spark
Ledger had warned Cheri to temper the emotions inside of her and practice wearing a well-placed mask. Tarian had taught her to assess a situation from every possible angle before letting your temper run wild. Oceane had schooled her in wisdom, poise, and grace.
It took Reave only a moment to unravel it all.
Cheri could see the laughter dissolve from his eyes and fall off his lips the moment it happened, and she silently hated to be the reason for it. She shouldn’t have let something so insignificant bait her into such a wild display of frustration, letting it nearly turn into aggression, but she was both physically and mentally exhausted by now. Tired of the constant belittling from her most southern neighbors, tired of questioning herself all the time - just flat out fucking tired.
Reave was the least deserving of her anger, and his impression of seriousness humbled Cheri. She was on the verge of apologizing when his demeanor threw her for a loop again, and the hen pegasus found herself curiously quiet the more her relation danced around the subject of his inquiries. Until he said that damned name: Obscene.
“Heavens, will no one shut up about that cursed Fae?” Cheri looked away from him and out toward the weather, watching as the burdensome rain turned sideways and thickened into hail. The icy trail of stones raining down from the sky made threatening music against Nerine’s cliffs as they shattered apart, and the Loessian turned back to look at Reave - noting how he’d moved aside for her, almost an invitation to escape.
She considered it. That would’ve been a preferable alternative to actually talking about the stallion who never seemed too far away from her own orbit. Wasn’t it already bad enough that he was ruling the Pampas? No matter how far she flew, Cheri just couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t outrun her feelings.
She could, however, relive them.
Her gaze lifted defiantly, deep greens that clashed against the all-familiar blue without hesitation. They flickered with lively animation, sparkling as she roused the memories of those first few encounters with the Pampas Prince - the same ones she’d fought so hard to resist - until they swept her away, back to the time and place itself. She recalled how dark it’d been, how red his eyes had glowed underneath the eerie eclipse. How the storms had raged above them that night, as angry and violent as the emotion Obscene had unexpectedly roused inside of her. All of this for Reave, who seemed to turn her tumultuous pain into pleasure for himself on a whim.
The memories shifted. There she was in the wildflower fields, staring back at Obscene all alone in his newly-minted home, admiring how much he seemed to have changed in such a short amount of time. She remembered how her eyes had lingered over every dark, dangerous angle. She remembered how badly she had wanted to let her lips rest upon each and every one of them, until Obscene shivered underneath her touch. Cheri recalled the haze of the pollen that evening, how it had twisted the truth out of her. She could envision the fae stallion as clearly now as he’d been then, despite the taint of the drug, and how he’d managed to draw out her poisonous feelings with prickling, inquisitive questions. Then she had turned her back on him, only to suggestively beg him closer with a coy, most unladylike simper. Was Reave seeing things from her perspective now?
How Obscene had noticed her hesitation and confusion, tried (despite her state of mind) to get her to drink more, and when Cheri had come upon a moment of do or die she’d chosen the safest option for her - only to be met with that characteristic nonchalance Obscene could throw so well. Yes; only the afamed Pampas Prince seemed to have that uncanny ability of attaching insult to injury. He had sent her away half-blitzed, truly a gentleman. Cheri didn’t stop, though.
She brought more memories to mind.
The ones of him bringing Aela to Loess and treating her like a piece of utter shit. As if she were some common annoyance that he could spit on in Aela’s presence, rather than a diplomat from his sister country. The version of him mid-insult with Djuna during a moment where she, too, had been in a questionably vulnerable state seemed good enough to bring up now. She shuddered to think of how that had turned from annoyance and arrogance into slithering death, and the way he’d screamed her name …
That was when she stopped.
Cheri wasn’t even aware that she was panting. The sky had broken apart into peals of raucous thunder and jagged, flashing arcs of deadly lightning while the hail rained ceasely down from above. She blinked and the memories faded away, back to their place of origin where they resided like angry beasts inside her heart.
“Is that the self-described ‘Prince’ you were thinking of, Reave?” She wanted to know.
It took Reave only a moment to unravel it all.
Cheri could see the laughter dissolve from his eyes and fall off his lips the moment it happened, and she silently hated to be the reason for it. She shouldn’t have let something so insignificant bait her into such a wild display of frustration, letting it nearly turn into aggression, but she was both physically and mentally exhausted by now. Tired of the constant belittling from her most southern neighbors, tired of questioning herself all the time - just flat out fucking tired.
Reave was the least deserving of her anger, and his impression of seriousness humbled Cheri. She was on the verge of apologizing when his demeanor threw her for a loop again, and the hen pegasus found herself curiously quiet the more her relation danced around the subject of his inquiries. Until he said that damned name: Obscene.
“Heavens, will no one shut up about that cursed Fae?” Cheri looked away from him and out toward the weather, watching as the burdensome rain turned sideways and thickened into hail. The icy trail of stones raining down from the sky made threatening music against Nerine’s cliffs as they shattered apart, and the Loessian turned back to look at Reave - noting how he’d moved aside for her, almost an invitation to escape.
She considered it. That would’ve been a preferable alternative to actually talking about the stallion who never seemed too far away from her own orbit. Wasn’t it already bad enough that he was ruling the Pampas? No matter how far she flew, Cheri just couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t outrun her feelings.
She could, however, relive them.
Her gaze lifted defiantly, deep greens that clashed against the all-familiar blue without hesitation. They flickered with lively animation, sparkling as she roused the memories of those first few encounters with the Pampas Prince - the same ones she’d fought so hard to resist - until they swept her away, back to the time and place itself. She recalled how dark it’d been, how red his eyes had glowed underneath the eerie eclipse. How the storms had raged above them that night, as angry and violent as the emotion Obscene had unexpectedly roused inside of her. All of this for Reave, who seemed to turn her tumultuous pain into pleasure for himself on a whim.
The memories shifted. There she was in the wildflower fields, staring back at Obscene all alone in his newly-minted home, admiring how much he seemed to have changed in such a short amount of time. She remembered how her eyes had lingered over every dark, dangerous angle. She remembered how badly she had wanted to let her lips rest upon each and every one of them, until Obscene shivered underneath her touch. Cheri recalled the haze of the pollen that evening, how it had twisted the truth out of her. She could envision the fae stallion as clearly now as he’d been then, despite the taint of the drug, and how he’d managed to draw out her poisonous feelings with prickling, inquisitive questions. Then she had turned her back on him, only to suggestively beg him closer with a coy, most unladylike simper. Was Reave seeing things from her perspective now?
How Obscene had noticed her hesitation and confusion, tried (despite her state of mind) to get her to drink more, and when Cheri had come upon a moment of do or die she’d chosen the safest option for her - only to be met with that characteristic nonchalance Obscene could throw so well. Yes; only the afamed Pampas Prince seemed to have that uncanny ability of attaching insult to injury. He had sent her away half-blitzed, truly a gentleman. Cheri didn’t stop, though.
She brought more memories to mind.
The ones of him bringing Aela to Loess and treating her like a piece of utter shit. As if she were some common annoyance that he could spit on in Aela’s presence, rather than a diplomat from his sister country. The version of him mid-insult with Djuna during a moment where she, too, had been in a questionably vulnerable state seemed good enough to bring up now. She shuddered to think of how that had turned from annoyance and arrogance into slithering death, and the way he’d screamed her name …
That was when she stopped.
Cheri wasn’t even aware that she was panting. The sky had broken apart into peals of raucous thunder and jagged, flashing arcs of deadly lightning while the hail rained ceasely down from above. She blinked and the memories faded away, back to their place of origin where they resided like angry beasts inside her heart.
“Is that the self-described ‘Prince’ you were thinking of, Reave?” She wanted to know.
@Reave