 Gunsynd I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
As he leaves the mountain he can feel the power being ripped from him. He had known this would happen. He had considered staying, perishing there on its unforgiving slopes. Wouldn’t it have been better that way? How could a world without his Valley be worth living in? What was he to do now that his mistress was gone? His life had been sole devoted to her and now he was free. But the freedom was unwanted and terribly lonesome.
His body feels heavy, cumbersome. He moves without aim, without thought. It is as if he can do nothing but move forward (if not symbolically, then at least physically). He can see that the grass is still green, that it still sways in the breeze. There are still rivers and ponds with clear, running water, that the trees are gaining their leaves. The land is as it was, and yet it is completely different. The typical magical undertones are gone. Hoarded by the mountain as if it were some dragon guarding its treasure. He casts his dark eyes at the new peak with hostility, how could he feel anything less for the thing that had taken his mistress from him?
Still, the urge to live plagued him. He could not give up yet. He owed it to Her to try to find a way to fix this, to bring her back to life. Maybe there was a way, maybe not. But he would use whatever life he had left to try. But for now, things are such a mess. He does not know where to start. So he stops in the meadow and casts his gaze around uncertainly. Maybe someone here held the key.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
They are largely unmoved by the changes that have been cast into effect.
They never had anything but themselves and the red eye each of them has that marks them as his.
Others, they know, are not so fortunate - like their mother, but they can scent her around the base of the mountain and relief crawls slowly through their veins. She is safe, and that is all that matters to them. Even their father, whom they’ve found in the meadow, is changed - some spark has gone out of him, that elemental force that made him more fearsome to most than he already he is, and he has the normal heat of a horse now, so they’ve noticed.
Right now, they are bickering over the mountain’s origins.
“It’s just a mountain!” he shouts.
“No, it’s not!” she shouts back at him.
Their bickering becomes a shoving match, Spark throwing her smaller shoulder into her brother’s heftier side. She cannot quite topple him over, but she can upset his balance enough to cause him to misstep and she darts away from the oncoming nip he seeks to deliver to her pale haunch, but Spark is much too fleet of foot for him and his teeth close on air. He runs after her, clearly disadvantaged by his heavier size - he takes too much after their father, and she is lighter like their mother, and just as crafty as the old medicine hat mare is.
Their antics spill them right into the path of the big black stallion. He is large and dark, like their father. They almost mistake him for such, but the scent is not right and it is faintly familiar - oh! It’s the stallion that made all that noise in the evergreen copse in the field where the frightened black mare stood! They recognize him, maybe only slightly, but the faint recognition of him is there in their eyes - red and black, mismatched, bits of Offspring and Scalped in both of them. “Sure is different, huh?” Spear, the bay overo colt, is the first to break the silence that sits heavily between the three of them. Spark merely nods her head, her brother sure had a way with words and she can barely contain the chuckle that sits behind her tightly pressed lips.
Gunsynd I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
The horses the dot the meadow all still carry the scents of their homes. The scents float on the breeze like ghosts, haunting the monster. His usual demeanor has been lost to time. He now resembles something akin to a wet mop, droopy and rather sad, his tangled locks covering the majority of his face as he does not bother to watch where he is going.
And this is what brings the three together, lack of attention. He does not remember them (too much has transpired), but he can smell the tundra’s scent on their pelts and another wave of nausea hits his gut. Were they just as lost as he was? But they had each other, and twins were strange in such a way that as long as they had one another they could care less if the rest of the world burned. He knew, he had had twins once (though they were not quite correct - not quite fully formed).
But these little creatures offered him some distraction from his morose thoughts at the very least, so he focused on them. They did not seem to fear him (the wet mop that he is) so he does not try to intimidate them. The larger of the two speaks, noting the difference to the land. Gunsynd could have laughed at the understatement were he not so sick to his stomach. He could see the filly trying to hold back such a reaction.
“You could say that.” He says gruffly, his voice thick and pained from anxiety. “Where will you two go now that the Tundra is gone?” He asks, almost to himself. Maybe if they had an answer, he could get closer to finding one himself.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
If the earth burned; they would dance amongst embers and ash.
But the earth trembled, shook, swallowed up all that they had ever known - Tundra, mother, life as they knew it.
Inattentive, they fare better than most if only because they never had anything to miss in the first place.
They only had each other.
He smells of a place they’ve never been too, and they’ve been far in their early travels. Travels that are now confined mostly to the base of the Mountain, and the meadow and the forest. They know the meadow and the forest better than most, having spent a lot of their days in either one, trying to make friends and the like. Mostly, he just smells of loss and it saddens their hearts - they are too over-glad to be greatly affected by all that has transpired in a matter of hours, in the change of night to day and back to night again.
The pain and anxiety is palpable in his voice, and it moves Spark - the black-capped pale filly, to run her little nose along his side. It is all the comfort she can bring him because she cannot bring him anything else - not the very essence of his being that is stricken by the blight of loss for too many things, and she feels a terrible ache in her gut that so many are so lost, like him. She smiles up at him as he asks his question, “Wherever our father goes.” Because frankly, it was that easy. Spear though, thinks it may not quite be as easy as that. “We follow him, but it seems few have any idea on where to go in the first place. Everything is..." he pauses, looking out around them, suddenly the more serious of the two when usually Spark is the solemn one. “Changed.” he finishes lamely.
Gunsynd I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
What had become of him that he spoke with yearlings and drew pity from fillies? That the girl had the courage to touch him shook him to his very core. Was he so little without his lover? She had been the strength behind him, for sure. He had never feared much knowing that she would be safe and sound. But now, now she was gone. Now he feared. He feared for her, and for himself. What would become of him?
The children do not seem so concerned. They have one another, and they have their father (whoever that is). They seem secure in that. They do not seem to have attached themselves to any place like he had. Of course, few of the other lands had such an allure.
The two finish speaking (it is as if they were one soul in two bodies) and he nods in agreement. He must concede that at least the entire place has changed and not just his home that has been annihilated. It will be a race, it seems, to rebuild. But for now, they are all on even footing. All homeless. It is little consolation, but it is all there is to be had.
“We all have to start from scratch.” He says. But was it really true? Yes, they had nothing physical, but Gunsynd at least had an ideal he was working towards. Some lacked even that. The beast shifts his weight uneasily, unused to conversing with youth. “But I suppose that allows young ones like you time to consider where you will go. Most don’t stay under the shadow of their parents for long anyway.” Oops, did he drop a little seed of thought into their little minds? Silly Gunsynd, how careless of you.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
Spark stares up at him curiously; her black and red eyes hold him in deepest regard but he seems oddly fearful of her touch. It makes her tilt her head back just a little, to consider just why it is that he is so timid in the moment. Could it have anything to do with all the strangeness going on? Horses don’t seem like themselves any more, some are very very different from when they first met them - those that had control of an element, now had wings, and the like. Maybe it all had to do with that new mountain in their midst, and the mists that crept low about every land, especially those to the North and the West of here.
They missed the Tundra;
It was as much a mother to them as Scalped had been.
They had grown fat off her permafrost face, dark mountainous teats, and icy breath, as much as they had their mother’s own milk. But they did not think about missing it as much as he did, maybe because they are children and he is an adult, he had formed a deeper bond with his land than they ever had.
Spear and Spark see this as yet another grand adventure.
Perhaps that is the blessing of being children still; they can see this as opportunity, looking upon it with open hearts and minds both.
They can see that they make him uneasy, or maybe their age does. Really, it makes no difference to them because he is one of the few horses they’ve seen not swarmed by loved ones or such. He had seemed rather lonely, and he looked like Offspring - big and black, but he lacked their father’s piercing red eyes, even if he seemed just as formidable as their father is. “Maybe,” Spark says, still at his side and almost leaning comfortably into him with her small shaggy self. “We found our father, and are likely to follow him still.” Spear adds, eyeing the black stallion curiously now. “Where is there to go but here?”
Both of them are bright; of eyes and mind.
The mists!
He means to go into the mists, brave brave soul that he is.
“You mean the mists, don’t you?” Spear is far more intrigued now than earlier, he looks up at the stallion, eager to hear more.
Spear & Spark
Gunsynd I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
Many children have a great ability to be resilient - to see tragedy and pain as just a normal part of life. They don’t dwell on setbacks and heartache like adults do (they just don’t have the same attention span). Granted, there are some children that do not have this quality. They let disorder and chaos form them. They let the darkness into their soul. They let it tear away chunks of their heart. The beast is more familiar with those of the second category. They were the ones that grew up to be the most -interesting- individuals.
Still, children are children and though he does not have much experience with them (other than creating them), he recognizes their attitude as one of childish naivety. That being said, they certainly had the energy for the hard work ahead of them of rebuilding this land. He could use that (as he is sure their father could as well, but he doesn’t care for whoever that may be as much as he is obsessed with his own purpose).
He turns to regard the filly who is almost leaning on him nonchalantly. Gunsynd is not one for touch unless it serves his own -desires- and as twisted as he might be, the girl is too young for even his tastes. He does not shy away, but he certainly does not move towards her. They seem hesitant with their words until curiosity takes hold. He watches as their eyes glisten with interest. A small smile plays on his lips.
“Yes, certainly there is land out there being hidden from us by the malevolent fairy.” He says musingly, as if he had not considered it before. “I have a plan, but I need help…” He looks off towards the mountain, dark eyes busy with thought. He hopes their zest for adventure will push them forward.
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
@[Kristin]
Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
They are as familiar with chaos (for all that they cause it!) as they are with control.
There is as much dark in them,, as there is light. They are two halves of the same oneness that had split at the time of conception,, and each holds portions of the things that are necessary to balance them. If he is mischief or anger, then she is the calm that comes after it; they balance one another, and in times apart, the balance is tipped in one or the other’s favor - like now, as Spear grows emboldened by the black’s talk, and Spark shrinks back by her brother’s side, trying to dissuade the colt from this course. It is too late, he asks and the asking cannot be undone and it is blasphemy to her ears as she pins them tight against her black-capped poll.
“Help, huh?” Spear cannot help himself, he asks for more - more information, more direction, more anything. He is hungry for it, despite the press of Spark against him and he almost steps away from her - almost. But she anchors him there, against her small fuzzy side, and he spares her but a look - mismatched eyes meet mismatched eyes, and Spear’s face drops in disappointment. Spark has never been this mad at him before, but he can see the blaze of anger in her eyes, and her own disappointment in him. “Are we going to stay in father’s shadow forever?” he asks her quietly, his lips pressed hard against her ear.
“You won’t,” she answers, a little sadly and just as quietly.
Spark can feel a chasm yawning a big dark mouth between them; it is hungry for their separation, and she feels like this is a thing that not even hope can bridge for them, or their twinness. Spear has broken something in them with his greed, his hunger for something altogether different for the very life that they have always known. True, their thirst for adventure and travel have been great. Never once though, have they faced the thought of separation as they do now - her path lies in the footprints their father had left behind, but Spear’s… it remains to be seen. He can feel his sister tuck herself more securely into his side but he pays her no mind, as he talks to the big black stallion; “She hardly seems all that malevolent, as I’m sure we’ve stirred the pot of her anger far too much. The fairy acted justly in my opinion but I am rather curious as to what you’ve got planned that requires our - my (he amends swiftly, far more swiftly than the glance given his sister) help.”
Spear has never seemed this grown up, and it scares Spark a little at the thought of losing him so quickly to things that are far bigger than either of them.
Spear & Spark
Gunsynd I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down
This is something the beast had not expected. The twins seem to be fighting an internal battle amongst themselves. As one might have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, these two seem to personify that battle in two unique bodies. One is soft, cautious, sweet while the other is rambunctious, adventurous, and perhaps… dangerous? He watches the drama unfold with some kind of morbid curiosity. Would the two split? Would they become separate entities? He cannot hear their shared words, but a part of him is dying to know what is said.
They had a strange connection to their father, something that is foreign to the black male. He has sired many foals, but never had loyalty from any of them (he wouldn’t know them even if they had - he made a point to avoid knowing his kin). He does not envy this affection, but it fascinates him. Perhaps the Valley’s guardian had been aiming for something like this when he bred the mute queen. Gunsynd could think of no other reason for Eight’s relationship with the female.
But that life, those thoughts, were already a lifetime ago (or so it seemed). The creatures around him always made the most interesting little diversions, and he was always happy to step in at just the right moment to play a needed part.
Gunsynd shakes his shaggy head slowly at the colt’s speech. “She has stolen what was not rightfully hers. What kind of creature demands obedience in such a way? Certainly not a god of merit.” He does not know if the foals were lacking powers as he was. He does not know if they ache for them in the way that so many others were now. They were naked, stripped of their most basic essence. He would not forgive this transgression. “There is a god, however, that is fighting for us.” He says, a smile curling his lips. “This god is taking on the fairy on our behalf. Returning what is rightfully ours.” He eyes them curiously, like a cat playing with its mouse.
“There are always two sides to every story. Don’t be so quick to assume the fairy is in the right.”
I M J U S T A S U C K E R F O R P A I N
@[Kristin]
Gunsynd is currently pretending to be someone else! He is now 15hh, hybrid, flea-bitten grey with clear blue eyes and goes by the name of Ginkgo. He will not have use of his traits while he is in this form. Please play as if he is simply the other persona unless your character has some sort of mind-reading. Thanks! <3
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