"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
The bark wore against me, harsh in places. Like the rough touch of a wanton lover. Every stride through the cove of trees, their gnarled fingers seemed to hook me, fine, bony twigs scraping across my side. My silvery tresses, adorned with a star-shine of teal and purple, was strewn across my neck, like gossamer threads. Dark frame, felt like an inky shadow, blending into the crisp umbra of the trees. It was here, like a witch within her darkness, I felt quite at home. My purple horn, a deep wine, like a shadow of the setting sun upon a crisp autumn eve, pressed against the bark, digging into the solid wood. Scrape. Scrape. I continue to carve, engraving every tree I pass with a symbol. A circle here, a triangle there. I engraved every tree I passed, all except one. This solitary oak stood robust against the rest, it's naked limbs like hooked arms draping over me, concealing me from the bright afternoon sun. It was this tree, I did not mark, instead my viridian eyes watched, a sharp vigil against the natural landmark.
He was aged, every nook and line, bore tales, secrets within it's trunk. I pressed my shoulder against the cool, course wood. It drove a fire through me, livened my senses as I felt the energy of the earth course through. Of course, it is the necessary spur of life that courses through the tree, like a throb of life, like a single, vulnerable thread. Life was fleeting, it comes and it goes, it bends with the wind. Life, it was all and it was nothing, and this surreptitious thought crept like a dark mark across my mind, like worn fingers, touching all the nooks and crannies of my skull. I thought then, that this old, worn oak, had to be claimed, had to be known. A name, a dubbing.
Aiken. Made of Oak. Strong, robust. I licked my dry lips and with a satisfied smirk, I pressed my forehead against the tree and scrawled, each letter digging into the tree's flesh. He is Aiken, he is strong, and he is named. Once complete, I left him, left all the marks against the trees, with a snap of my multi-toned tail, sharp against my loins. Each step took me closer to the brightness of the field. I was wary when I met the tree-line, almost tentative did my form idle by the breach of shadow and light.
I may spin fair tales across my spidery fingers, but out there, the sunlight, it burns, it burns the witches, the dark. And right now, I was not in the mind of getting burnt. So here, in the safety of the darkness, I stand. Head held a little higher than normal, green eyes watchful as they studied the field with a sharp scrutiny. Many lurked, crowds mingled and not a single one caught my attention.
Were they all like this?
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j y n x s
here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you, eternal sleep
For the longest time the darkness had been my friend. My constant hiding in the shadows had become more than a habit. It had become almost like an addiction I didn't have any desire to try and kick. It was why I found myself weaving in between the trees of the woods surrounding the field as I made my way towards the center. the last times I had made my way to this side of beqanna I had flown in. but this time I decided it would be more appropriate to travel how I preferred. by hoof and in the dark.
it was much easier to slink up behind unsuspecting souls and give them the smallest of frights. it was a small humour I cherished and held most dear... for even the smallest entertainments were important to keep the boredom from my entirely too complex thought process. I guess the love for the small humors in life were why I noticed the little designs on the trees before I noticed her. I began to follow each and every one, my nose touching ever discovered design until finally I saw the differently colored girl infront of me.
her purple and blue hues were unusual, like my glowing orange jaguar spots and it made me just comfortable enough to walk up beside her as she carved a name into the tree she stood infront of. her expertise at the carving with her horn was practiced well enough to be legible and the word quickly escaped my lips before I could stop myself from doing so. "Aiken, hmm? ...Interesting." Wings twitched at my sides as I looked over at her and noticed how the glow of my spots shone gently against her dark bay coat and colored mane.
"Is that someone significant, or did you just decide that was the name the tree should have?" A small smirk quirked at the edges of my lips. "I'm demian, of the valley. Mind if I bother you for a moment? If the trees deserve your attention more, I could try to change into one, but I can't say I'll be successful or that it would be even a pleasant thing to watch." I guess this socialization stuff was getting pretty easy. At first when I crawled out of my little hole and decided to stop being a hermit, the worlds had jumbled inside of me. but now here t they danced on the tip of my tongue. social anxiety was certainly becoming a thing I was learning to live with and tolerate.
original html by strells, edited by taz | character by taz
They come, like vultures to a mess of skin and bone. Ah, but that is all that is intended. An audience, a soul. A beating heart beneath the throes of flesh and ribbed bone. the thought sits just behind my eyes, as I stand just beside the lofty oak. My dark eyes surveying those out there, I had not quite expected another to join my obscure vantage point, but as I hear the crunch of twig and leaf, my head turns, my body follows. Eyes easily pick out parts of him, like some witch tenderly picking the parts of the flower she wishes to throw into the cauldron. Oh, not that part, that is too broken, oh, but this part, the fleshy tones of life, they, they are most perfect.
'Everything should have a name. You give something a name, it has meaning, purpose.' there is a light of fire hidden in the dark lilt of my voice. The shudder of the leaves upon the wind, matching the rush of breath from my lips. The smirk dances across my lips, like a quick dart of a silver paintbrush against my ebony muzzle. 'Aiken. He is strong, he will see many and yet fall to none...' there are tales upon my tongue, whimsical words spun together. For no reason other than to stroke the gentle ego of my mind. Ah, but he, this jaguar spotted heathen, he purposefully tends to my ego.
'Demian. A martyr, to tame, to conquer' the wisp of a smirk falls, an astute line of contemplation as for the moment, the cogs and inner workings of my mind shift and creak, in need of a good oiling (when one has not conversed with any other than the trees, than the darkness, it needs a little adjusting.) 'I am Jynxs. A spell to bind, a hex to taint. I can be everything and yet can be nothing.' I pause here, taming the need to laugh, the urge to cackle into the darkness like some strange, cawing bird. 'If you were to turn into a tree, then there would be no question. For a man who can turn into the rugged oak, is worth following until the end of time.' The rouse of a that perfect smile quivers, lessens for a passing moment before broadening against my face, a twist of tender teeth and salmon tongue as I speak, as if summoning demons, as if talking to gods.
'But until then, I can ask all the questions I need and there will be no following, yet.' I take a stalking step forward, languid, almost lazy in it's stride. Square jaw twisting to turn, back to gaze across the light-strewn meadow, and then purposefully back to Demian, oblivion eyes finding him with a glitter, a glimmer of havoc. 'Do you prefer the shadows? They do little to hide you, you know. But then, I cannot talk.' The bob of my head as I chuckle, causes the horn atop my brow to quiver. I am as conspicuous as the orange birds that sit with ravens. and He, the conquerer, the martyr, he is as conspicuous as a jaguar sitting amongst lions. 'What is this valley like? For it must mean something to you, to announce it with your name...'
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j y n x s
here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you, eternal sleep
"that is too true," her words have me cocking a quizzical brow as I watch her. She is intelligent, unlike most I have met and it almost amuses me. The amusement easily masks my surprise, my facial features barely twitching in response as I continue to observe her quiet movements. Her smirk is like a flame to a candle and in response I find myself smirking a bit more and nodding slightly. "Yes, the trees tend to live long and full lives without harm. If only they could talk. The stories they could tell... pausing for a moment I take a small breath before continuing, "I'd be most interested to hear them, wouldn't you?"
There's nothing like the differences in the world. The light that shone in even the darkest of places. The tortured souls. The different minds. The craziest of personalities. They are who inspire me to live my life in the ways that I do. I guess that may be one reason why I find her as refreshing as I do. her differences are like a breath of fresh spring air and they hold my attention better than most have ever been able to do. The way her face changes as she speaks it's interesting to me. The way her lips form into a straight line and how her brow crinkles. It keeps my eyes glued to her face, unable to tear away as she speaks of both their names and meanings.
It is this that changes my smirk into a slight smile as I take a deep breath and then chuckle softly. "I must disappoint you though, I cannot turn into a tree. That is sadly far beyond any of my capabilities young one. Though like you I do appreciate and value their existence. They are a vital part of our tiny world. And the secrets they hold are few and many." Her smile goes unnoticed by my curious and observational gaze until finally I step a bit to the side as she steps forward. It is out of habit that I move. Not used to others being in close proximity. It isn't necessarily that it makes me nervous. Just that it creates an uncomfortable vibe that likes to wrap itself around my graying body and tighten like that of a boa once it's caught it's unsuspecting prey.
"Questions are most certainly allowed. And what you choose to do is up to you, I shall not force you to do anything you don't want to do, Jynxs." Her name flows fluidly off my tongue as I make her silent promises that I intend to stick to. it would be indeed up to her whether or not she wanted to follow him back to his home. "I do prefer the shadows. They are abundant back home, in the Valley. The sun tends to hurt my eyes. I am a night owl so to speak and so haunting the land during the day isn't my forte." Again he chuckles dryly before speaking a bit more. "it is alright they don't do much. the spots help me to see my way. and most are thrown off in the night when they see the glow of the spots that decorate me. I like the colors that decorate you. They are much nicer than the orange glow that covers me."
Grinning now I roll my shoulders in a half shrug. For once I was being kind. Polite. Even handing out compliments. I wasn't sure how it was happening, or why even. But It was best I not question it. For in an instant I knew that it could all slip from my grasp if I focused on it too much and I didn't want to ruin this. Not this time. It was vital that he didn't. "The Valley?" Her question snaps me out of my own thoughts and I find myself twisting my lips in a thoughtful look before nodding slightly. I wasn't sure yet how I wanted to explain it. How did one tell someone who had never seen a place that it was empty and needing growth, nearly devoid of life? Most hated to hear this. They didn't find it near tempting enough to follow me home because of these facts. And it was almost disheartening. Ah hold on, I'll just speak from the heart. Mother always did say that somehow worked best on occasion.
"The Valley is a kingdom to the south east of beqanna. It's lands are decorated with dark forests, leaves of the thick trunked trees painted red and orange while the mountains surround the north and western borders. It is a beautiful place. And it holds many ghosts. Ghosts that tell stories. It is old, but it is new. And it needs time to grow, and new life to give it a new name. It is in need of those like you. To help it grow. And I am but a messenger sent by her, to offer you a home. When you pledge your loyalty to her, she gladly takes care of you as do her members."
I find myself slipping my tongue slowly inbetween my lips in order to wet them lightly before continuing, "I can show it to you if you like. See if you like her for yourself? You don't have to stay if you don't want to of course." I don't mention my plans for the valley or how I've made a move for the throne. I didn't want her to chose based on my potential status. I wanted her to decide because it sounded best to her. Those who were able to make such choices based on their heart rather than personal gain were always guaranteed to do the best in the valley. at least that is what I had noticed over my years of haunting it's deep dark corners and observing the lives within.
original html by strells, edited by taz | character by taz
The trees are made of earth and bark, or soul and heart. Their flesh is hardwearing and even though I may have scarred the trunks with insignia, they will heal, they will wear them like trophies and remain ever stronger. I admit the earth, the way the grass grows from a cold winter's spell. the way that the flowing rapids of a river can ice right up. The way that the summer heat can manipulate the flowers and the weeds. That is power, that is something in itself. And it is the mother of nature that we learn from. We are born from the earth and we will die, returning to the earth in ash and in bone.
My thoughts crumble, like tiny pieces of jigsaw fragments. Such contemplations are made for dreary winter days, lost beneath a canopy of shadow and branch. But for now, I share the company of an actual like-minded individual and the feeling feels electric. 'The stories, the secrets, oh, the knowledge. And yet, they have no one to tell them to. Have you ever told a tree a secret? One that you'll only take to the grave?' my tone is dark and morbid, that of a curious girl who reaps the graveyard of weeds and calls them flowers. There is a sparkle in my eye, lighting the dark with a sharpness, an intelligence that I owe to the earth, to the mother that bore me, the father that never cared.
'Ah, such a shame. Here I was thinking that I could tell you all my secrets and not worry where they might end up.' A chuckle slips from my lips, cool, crisp and breaks the cool atmosphere of winter's horizon. I stalk forward once more, curious to the way he bends out of my vicinity (I have no sense of close contact and why and when others reject it so. It means nothing really.) My teal and purple toned tail snaps at my hocks, idly, whipping back and forth like a pendulum. Wisps of mane, ribbons of silvery froth fall across my eyes as they watch, ever so curious, the steed. Damian. the martyr. Damian. the conquerer. The smirk that settles across my lips does not fade.
'If one were to force me, they would pay a hefty price. But there is not need to force one when they will follow you willingly.' Like a shadow, melting into another, I step closer, there is no malice nor flirtatious awe in my doings, just simple curiosity, an allure of whimsy and natural magic. I laugh then, a tone strangely soft. 'You conjure such marvellous pictures of the valley. you've sold me already. As long as there is earth and trees and shadows aplenty, I am there.' I dip my nose, it dips into my chest, feeling the steady beating of the heart beyond. It thumps with a newness, a rawness that I have not felt in so long.
'If the Valley is in need of me, then I cannot deny, can I? And what of you, Demian. The conquerer, the martyr. What will you need of me?' I pause, the added suspense of a whimsical smile, all debonair, entices the words like tentative fingers weaving a spell. 'Because they all want something, they all need something.' the glitter in my eye is like stardust, like dew upon morning grass. I take a few shuffling steps backwards, deeper into the throes of the shadow, adoring the way that the umbra takes a blanket over me, washes me something akin to the way the night swallows the day. And I stare, stare with eyes like oblivion, that hold promises and meaning, that watch and study and observe with the intricacy of someone mad but someone with their head screwed on the very right way...
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j y n x s
here in the forest dark and deep, i offer you, eternal sleep
OOC: I don't even know where I am going with her, but she is quite fun XD
you say I'm crazy, but I think I'm freaking amazing.
"Ah, but they could tell anyone. If one chose to listen hard enough. But most are not willing... And yes. I have told a tree a secret. Many in fact." My lips curve into a small smile in reaction to her tone and intelligence. There were plenty of stories that I had shared with the trees of my life that no one else would ever hear. I had spent so long in solitude, by choice of course, that the trees had quickly become my friends above the rest. It was her comment though that made my ears prick slightly and in response I chuckled slightly. "You can tell me whatever you wish and I won't tell a soul. I spent so long in solitude that I learned to appreciate the meaning of keeping a secret."
As I spoke, I again out of habit stepped awkwardly to the side as she moved closer. Old habits were so hard to break. Especially those that helped one to avoid the uncomfortable state that the closeness of another could cause when one was so used to solitude like myself. At some point in time I would have to work on that... For ruling a kingdom required being in close proximity to others and if I planned to rule well I knew deep down I'd have to make some changes about myself, even if I didn't necessarily want to do so.
"I don't doubt that warning," my words are full of amusement and my smirk is turning into a smile before I even realize it. "The valley is marvelous, even with how quiet it is. Slowly life is starting to perk up, like small seedlings breaking through the earth to get a taste of sun's bright light... So I am glad I have perked your interest and sold you on the forested kingdom. I truly do believe you will fit in just fine there." It was now I realized she had moved even closer, and the typical uncomfortable feeling I usually felt had escaped me. Her closeness was something that was beginning to not bother me. Probably because she continued to press. He always was able to adapt to situations quickly.
Ears swivel slightly at her words as I watch her lips form into that whimsical but interesting smile. It was so different than the others I had seen. So full of curious life. "No," I say quietly, my smile growing a bit more, "I would have to say not. And I would need nothing of you. Other than your time, and effort to help us as a kingdom rebuild the strength of what the valley once was." Was that entirely true? Or did I want more? Was it possible I also wanted the company of this girl who seemed so smart and like-minded? Who knows. It wasn't typical for me to feel any sort of closeness towards anyone. So only time would tell what it was I wanted deep down, more so than for her to help me in my efforts towards the kingdom I was now devoting my life to.
