"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
Years have passed, and no word from him. His mother, had gone insane, thinking him dead. She'd never known that he was immune to death. Hell, he hadn't either, and yet here he still was. Coming home, after all these years. Unknowing, and uncaring what had become of his had-been family. If they were all dead, it was simply less loose ends for him to tie up. It would suit him just fine. He was, after all, so used to being alone. So it was odd that he was coming back to his birthplace, after so many years of nothing but wandering, pillaging, and procreating. But one could only wander, pillage, and procreate for so long before the taste of it became stale and bitter. He soon finds himself in a familiar, but strange, place. The field. It looked the same, but the faces here were different. The recruiters *cough* vultures *cough cough* were new. Yet the game was still the same. He continued through his old stomping grounds, rolling his eyes as hormone afflicted women preened, trying to catch his eye. He'd always hated Beqannan mares. Most didn't know what subservience was. Always too loud, too opinionated, and too damn dense to ever do anything for him. But don't tell them that. He ignores what he can, and gives a stoic nod to what he can't as he makes his way. There was a gnarled old apple tree at the top of a knoll he'd always loved, and he was on his way to see if it still stood. If not, he supposed he'd have to make new memories. .
Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like a volcano, then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
It has been ages since she has been to the field. Too long, to be honest. Life seems to have a way of shaking you up and knocking you down all in very quick succession. And she had let it. She had let it because sometimes, there is simply no other recourse.
But today is different. Today dawns bright and cold, a prelude to the winter to come. Today she would kick off the ache of too many injustices and force herself to do something useful. Something for the Dale.
Her beloved kingdom had been growing, fresh faces and new blood arriving to bring life to the lovely kingdom. But in the past few months, it had seemed to grow a bit quieter again. Perhaps it is simply that her sister had grown, becoming more adult and less child, that had brought about such a perceived quiet. Perhaps it was for other reasons. Nevertheless, she hopes to change that.
Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest as she takes to the sky, eyeing the field far below as it falls into its yearly slumber. She had begun flying again. Been forced into it, really, but she had done it. The height still makes her heart leap with fear, with remembered terror and pain, but she pushes past it. And it is lessening, growing more and more bearable with each passing day.
She soon finds a likely candidate, a stallion with a coat very similar to her own who seems to be searching for something. At first she thinks it might be recruits or mares, but when he bypasses several of them, she knows that is not the case.
Easing herself from the sky, she lands a short distance from him. Moving closer, she falls into step beside him, hoping that he might be willing to stop and converse with her. Offering a warm smile, she studies him with a friendly russet gaze for a moment before offering a soft greeting.
“Hello, I am Elysteria. Are you searching for something?”
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
He heard the gentle rustling of feathers as they folded against a warm side, coming to a close, and then the quiet beat of hoof falls as he was followed. His ears flit backwards, beckoning the sounds behind him which soon turn to sounds at his side. A woman, bay like himself, studying him as though he could possibly be something of interest. It causes a childish grin to seep onto his features as she introduces herself. If she only knew the sarcasm that was happening between his ears right now...she'd probably want to kick his coppery rear end. He is cordial, though, the epitome of well mannered male, as he always is in the beginning. "Hello, miss Elysteria. I'm Gabbar, another monotonous day in the Field, eh?" he offers, his quiet smile never slipping as he regards her amicably. She asks if he's searching for something, which brings him back to why he's still walking, now starting up the delicate incline towards something charred and twisted that used to be a majestic fruit bearing tree. "Yes, actually, I've been looking for that." he says gesturing to the charred piece of wood as he slows and comes to rest in front of it. His smile fades for a moment, he hated when constants changed without his knowing. Control was the name of his game, and change rattled him more than he let on. He sighs, turning dark eyes from the toasted wood towards the winged woman at his side, "Out for a leisurely stroll, or recruiting today?" he probes gently, cocking his head slightly with the question. She smelled of wetlands, forest, and sky. He thinks for a moment that perhaps she belonged in the Falls...or that other Kingdom. The Dale was it? But hell if he actually knew. She could be from any of the Kingdoms, their smells weren't familiar to him any more. They hadn't been for a very long time. He continues to regard her quietly, perfectly mannerly. He was proud of himself for that much. The farce was always so unpleasant to play, and would eventually crumble. That much never changed.
Gabbar
Immortality has its moments
OOC: You'll have to forgive me. There's layers and layers of rust on my RP skills, I'll come around though, I promise.
11-23-2015, 11:52 AM (This post was last modified: 11-23-2015, 11:55 AM by Elysteria.)
Elysteria
Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like a volcano, then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
Perhaps it is fortunate that she cannot read minds, and that she is generally not inclined to pick fights. The best she can do is emotions, and with the number of other horses currently in the field, that does get a little trickier. She is close enough though, that she can mostly pick out what is coming from him and what is not. She can feel a hint of… something. For the most part though, she disregards it. He doesn’t mean her any harm, and, well, she’s perfectly capable of handling the rest.
His words cause her smile to deepen. Her cinnamon eyes sparkle faintly as she glances up at him.
“Oh, it’s not so monotonous as some.”
She sees the scorched tree just before he mentions it, indicating that it is what he had been searching for. The smile that had been resting easily on her features slips as she eyes the burned trunk. A fleeting hint of sadness crosses her features as she considers the tree. Nothing lasts forever in this land. She knows this all too well. But still it saddens her see the once majestic tree nothing but a husk of its former self.
His next words startle her, bringing her back to her purpose here. A small, wry smile touches her lips at his droll quip.
“Ah, well, you’ve caught me. I’m here on business I’m afraid. From the Dale, actually. Do you know of it?”
She turns her gaze back to him, her curiosity evident as the small, lingering smile lights her features. He seems to know these lands. At least, he knows them well enough to have recalled this apple tree. She wonders what he might know of the kingdoms.
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
Shaytan is nothing like the normal Beqannian mare - unless you count the fact that there are definitely a lot more creepy/devious ladies running around right now. It’s kind of a fad. Except that Shaytan will never be part of the ‘in’ crowd, and she’s never going to grow out of it. The spotted (now faintly graying, which is weird when she sees her reflection in water) mare is a regular duck out water; a member of the Chamber solely for Straia, her main motivation is pleasing the bay and white Queen, and communing with the fire-tree. Oh and the bunnies. Hence, the crimson one on her chest. But that’s another story for another time.
Back to Straia.
For her single-minded devotion, Shaytan has been granted invisibility, which she is testing out right now. It takes a lot of concentration for her to maintain the invisibility for any serious length of time right now, but luckily for her, she’s already a pro at the undivided attention thing. Those bunnies were bound to come in handy some day. Partly for the hell of it and partly because she doesn’t know what else to do (Shaytan is a wretched fighter, she’s kind of like a wrecking ball without any finesse), she’s turned to recruiting. Unfortunately, recruiting and invisibility practice may not go as well together as she thinks it does…
They should probably smell her before he arrives, and may even hear the crunching of leaves beneath her heavy, half Spanish-Norman hooves, but it isn’t until she’s fairly close that her concentration falters. When Shaytan is revealed, she’s simply staring at the two of them, trying to figure out what she should say. After a couple of blinks, she says simply. “Hi. I’m Shaytan. I’m from the Chamber... I'm supposed to offer you a home.” They both seem nice. At least the mare does. She smells nice too. But nothing compared to Straia.
He gives a soft chuckle as she smoothes over his assertation of the Field. "No, you're right. Not so monotonous as some." he agrees settling into her companionship. His next question seems to pique her curiosity and she inquires about his knowledge of her homeland- the Dale as he'd assumed. "I used to, but time has a way of changing what we thought we knew." he offers honestly, with a nonchalant shrug of broad shoulders. "I was born there, weaned in the Chamber, and wandering ever since." he adds by way of explanation. He leaves out that he'd had a mother who hated the idea of him, who'd beaten him physically, psychologically, and spiritually. The mother who had left him by an old pine, promising she'd return, leaving him waiting for days until thirst and hunger had driven him on. He'd been barely four months old at the time. Almost hadn't survived. His eyes grow hard and distant as he remembers without joy. He is slowly returning from memory, so engrossed was he that he'd heard no other approach, and is startled when suddenly there is another mottled and odd body before him. She'd appeared out of thin air, a gory, picturesque sort of woman. Odd, to say the least. His ears fold backwards, front feet coming out to stamp the ground at the sudden startling intrusion. Big eyes blink back at him, staring drolly into the pit of his nonexistent soul, and he quiets, realizing it's just another of Beqanna's tricks. His ears return to a neutral state, catching the greeting that is rather wildly thrown at him. Shaya. And she was here to offer him a home at the Chamber...ironic. He addresses the mottled mare now, always wary of Chamberfolk, but not altogether uninterested. "Who rules now?" he probes, regarding her intently. Of course, he's curious of the Dale, too. But he's learned to be more wary of the Chamber, and their leaders. Crazies, the lot of them...much like him, though he'd never admit it. "Who heads the Dale? he asks to Elysteria in turn. He had much catching up to do.
Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like a volcano, then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
The red mare can wholly understand that which he is speaking of. She has lived enough years to have seen just how ephemeral things can be. Oh, the land itself is generally unchanging. Though trees die and regrow, streams and hills and mountains remain. They are the only steadfast constant in the whirlwind of life. It is ironic, truly, that he had been born in the Dale. She had too, a long time ago. But her mother had left, bringing a very young Elysteria with her. She had spent her youth wandering the wilds beyond Beqanna. But she had eventually found her way back here. And the Dale had found its way back to her, in the form a mare on a mission to recruit. So very much like her.
She feels the creeping of darker emotions as he considers his childhood, causing a small rise of concern within her. Not for her or her safety, but rather for him. For what he had to have endured to cause such emotions. Even before she had been granted empathy, she had been a kind and empathic mare. This had only heightened it, in many ways a blessing, in some a curse.
“Gabbar?”
Her voice is soft as she says his name on question, hoping to bring him out of his dark reverie. Before she can continue however, another mare appears simply out of nowhere. While she had heard the faint crunch of hooves, given the fact that there were numerous horses all about them, she had not thought too much of it. Blinking wide, russet eyes, she takes in the sight the spotted mare presents even while offering her a small, welcoming smile. The mare is quick to state where she is from (the Chamber, irony at its finest) and that she wishes to offer Gabbar a home.
Elysteria, despite her rather unsavory dealings with Chamberlings in the past, has never met this one (in truth, she has nothing against the Chamber, only a certain one of its members. But then, he had all but kidnapped her right out of a diplomatic meeting, and then had proceeded to follow her home after she had simply flown away, as any sane horse would have done). And as she has not yet given her a reason not to, she would treat her with the respect she treats everyone.
Gabbar continues, asking after the ruler of the Chamber before turning back to her and inquiring the same of the Dale.
“Ramiel is our king. He is the son of our former king, Tiphon. Were you in the Dale long enough to have known anyone?”
You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.
11-25-2015, 10:53 AM (This post was last modified: 11-25-2015, 10:54 AM by Shaytan.)
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
Gory and picturesque? Oh, if Shaytan could hear those words, she would probably jump for joy. She’s finally scary! She finally fits in with the rest of her Chamblerings - and neither of them have even seen her with the fresh bunny blood all over her lips. It used to blend in rather well with the rest of her, but as she ages and grays it just serves as a reminder that she is getting older.
“Gabbar,” she repeats, having heard the bay mare say his name, but missing the actual introduction. But that’s the end of her pleasantries, because she’s simply never had any. She can, however, answer questions; the one he asks is easy. She knows allll about Straia. Shay smiles, and it is almost too wide, too eager to aquiesce. “Straia is the Queen. She has Raven Magic, and is the daughter of an old King too, Rodrik. We are all very devoted to her and the Kingdom.” In fact, some of their loyalty could go so far as to seem cultish, especially when you mention the fire tree.
But crazy? No. Shaytan is the only crazy one there. That’s the gospel truth. She plunges forward, inept as always. “It’s a very nice place, if you like pine trees.”
Shaytan
so many lives so many pairs of eyes
[sorry this sucks, just wanted to get something up before I go on away!]
