"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
"You came when called. An excellent quality in a pet."
He smiled darkly in response, but gave no comment. "I didn't come to ask, I came to take you up on your offer."
Interest lit his eyes as she edged closer. He didn't even respond to her, and let it hang between them. She had given her forgiveness. He would not be fulfilling any task unless he thought it might help him in some way. But this, this stepping closer to him. That was good. He liked where that was going. She wasn't Queen. He could have this one. If he could catch her. For now, he didn't try. For now he only wanted to feel her touch.
The velvet of her muzzle pressed to his cool skin, and before he could even savor it, the world altered violently.
He reacted.
He lunged for her without any cry of warning; no growl, no roar. But the damn woman was tricky. One moment she was touching him and the next she was away again. He stumbled, disoriented from the experience of sudden travel. Then he slowly straightened and glared at her. Had he been a feline, his tail would have swished in agitation. Instead he only glowered for a moment, then burned across their surroundings with the heat of wrathful annoyance in his eyes.
Trees and darkness. No moon could penetrate this vile place. His nostrils flared. Where have you taken me, he asked flatly. And where is the water.
He didn't much care for this place. The darkness was acceptable enough. He knew the darkness. But it was dry, so dry. If there was a river in this place --a pond, a lake, he couldn't smell it from here. He didn't ask after it though. His odd attachment to water was not something he'd reveal to her, this devilish trickster. He could find it himself, if he must, but he hoped he'd be away from this place soon and returned to his home.
Blue-gray eyes found her again. A task, then. And after, she would set him back where he belonged.
Your task, Djinni.
He had no reason to do it, save that he wasn't meant to be in this place.
He would have this one some day, he swore it. She would be his.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
01-01-2017, 06:58 PM (This post was last modified: 01-01-2017, 06:58 PM by Djinni.)
djinni raene
The irritation all but radiates off him, and from her safety a few paces away, she enjoys it. She’s keeping him on his toes, she thinks with a smile, making sure his heart is healthy. She’d not missed the way he leaned into her or the hunger she’d seen in his eyes, but she is not interested in sating it. Not now – possible not ever, but there is no way to see into the future. She does, however, always enjoy being wanted. Unless there’s no time for, and this is such a time; she has other things to do.
There is no visual melding in her shifting, no oddly blurred vision that is half former shape and half future. She simply IS one moment, and the next she has been turned to something's entirely different.
In this case, the change is fairly drastic. It's not incredible - at least she is still a mare - but there is nothing of Djinni's true self in the form she takes.
A white blanket spreads across her hindquarters, speckled here and there with black spots, as well as some in a shade of salmon that perfectly matches the pink of her mane and tail. The horns are gone, as are the wings and her various golden accessories. She is Raene now, a bulky percheron hybrid mare who has recently inherited a throne from her sister.
"This is Sylva," she answers as she look out into the darkness. She wishes no one to notice them, and so they don't, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious.
"I need you to run it for me. It's a quiet little place, full of families." And it is; there's a peaceful sense of contentment that seems almost trapped beneath the fiery canopy. It reminds Djinni of her childhood. "It shouldn't be too difficult." The statement means to taunt him, as though there truly is nothing in the world easier than running a kingdom.
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with salmon pink mane and tail
01-01-2017, 10:52 PM (This post was last modified: 01-01-2017, 10:52 PM by Stillwater.)
Stillwater
He blinked. It was enough for her to become something else from one instant to the next. Now she stood as an entirely different person; larger, darker, terrible-colored hair. His gut hardened in suspicion, not liking at all what this meant. She had a lot more power than he'd first guessed at. Whatever the hell she was put him on edge, already worrying over the things she could do to him. He smothered his rising anxiety, though his eyes were tight with unease as he breathed evenly. It would not do him well for her to ever learn of his weaknesses. Vulnerabilities.
"This is Sylva.
I need you to run it for me. It's a quiet little place, full of families.
It shouldn't be too difficult."
His face darkened. Had his humor not been entirely soured just then, he may have barked in laughter at the absurdity of it. Him? Look after people? Him? She was insane. Had to be.
No. Dropped heavily, solidly between them. There was no way he was doing this for her. Why did women always ask for so much?
He was locked on her with the weight of everything she'd displaced in his life just now. Nayl had just given him his liberties and he fully intended on exercising them. He was not about to remain here for Djinni's schemes.
Take me back, or I will find my own way.
His cave was where he belonged. The opportunity she inadvertently handed him was not lost on him. It did have its secretly, deliciously desirable appeals, but currently it was not enough to outweigh the comfort of his home and the freedom he'd won from his negotiations with the Queen.
Oh hell, now Djinni was a Queen too. Goddamned Queens!
He grit his teeth and held back a snarl. Just barely.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
There is nothing pleasant in Stillwater’s expression. Djinni returns his hard-eyed stare with one of her own, waiting as he processes her instruction.
When he denies her, there is no surprise on her larger black face, no scowl of frustration.
Djinni hadn’t thought he’d follow orders blindly; it was part of what made him so appealing. It’s not as though she is queen of Nerine, with the ability to banish him from his seaside cave. He’s sworn no oath to her – but then, she’s sworn no oaths herself, she does this for her own purposes, whatever they may be.
“Yes.” She replies to his firm denial, and though she wants to laugh, she does manage to keep a – mostly – straight expression. Djinni has not missed the snarl, and while she does find delight in keeping him off balance, she is not so foolish as to prod haphazardly.
“You’ll stay here. You’ll keep this place safe.” She repeats her demands, knowing that they are no small burden. They are a burden she does not want, after all; why not foist them off on another?
“If you try to return, I’ll just send you back.” That would be simple enough, but she also wouldn’t put it past him to enjoy keeping her busy returning him every time he wandered away. “Hmm,” she muses aloud, tilting her back head and resettling her salmon mane. “Best make sure you stay, actually.”
She steps closer, Raene’s figuring disappearing as she does so, leaving her a smaller and easier to maneuver. She stops when she is face to face with him, just close enough to reach out and touch his muzzle with hers. And she does reach out, but only to tap the end of one small hoof against his right foreleg. The soft jingle of her golden anklets is not unusual, but the thud of a heavier chain settling into place around Stillwater’s fetlock is entirely novel.
“There.” Says the grullo mare, taking a quick step back to admire her handiwork. “That will keep you here.”
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with salmon pink mane and tail natural build, smoky grullo tobiano
She was looking entirely too pleased with herself. And he knew he was fumbling, his mind racing to find a way out of this. He hadn't known her long, but he could tell: when Djinni wanted something, she got it. When she set her mind to something, she made it happen. She was powerful. Dangerous. Unpredictable. And he held a losing hand in her game.
"You'll stay here. You'll keep this place safe."
Not likely. He wouldn't be staying.
"If you try to return, I'll just send you back."
Well, that was annoying. Then again, he could also make it troublesome for her and that line of thinking was growing increasingly entertaining. He would make her life hell, that was for sure. A smirk crept its way to his face, but it unfortunately didn't last long. She was a wicked thing intent on ruining him and seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
"Best make sure you stay, actually."
She stepped closer, once again becoming the slender and gray temptress he assumed was her true identity. Possibly. You never really knew with Djinni, he supposed. Tricky little enigma. The embers of interest warmed again in his eyes though he was powerless to do anything about it. Alarms were ringing in his mind, demanding he step back and away. To safety. Safe from her.
Instead he challenged that intuition and stepped forward, hungry eyes on the soft velvet of her muzzle. He was growing accustomed to the tinkling of her bangles, and so he didn't react until a foreign vise settled around his own ankle, heavy and solid. His ears pinned back and his eyes sharpened, looking deep into her eyes for answers he'd never receive.
"There," she said stepping back, "That will keep you here."
His eyelids slid over the growing wrath there and he sighed in a drawn-out, airy hiss of exasperation. Impossible damned woman. He knew what it was of course, the perfect solution to her problem. From one leash to another with these wretched females. A pet, a tool; a pawn to push around where they wanted him. Where had he gone wrong to make them think he was this person they could mold and manipulate to their whims? Some sort of consort without intimacy for Nayl, some sort of guardian for Djinni. At least the tables were turned in Celeana's case, but he was being out-played by Djinni. Nayl was more a tie, he supposed.
The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he said nothing, soaking it in and mulling it over. There had to be a crack in this he could slither his way out of. What made her think they were safe from him? But he wouldn't ask it. He would escape this, he just needed more time to examine it fully. With an inward groan he knew he'd have to submit. For now. He opened his eyes, intent on denying her the satisfaction of a better reaction.
How long are your terms for this agreement? As if he had a choice in the matter. As if he had a say in his own damned life anymore. Nevertheless, he had his dignity at the least. And what am I to call you? That large one with the flamboyant hair. It was clearly a disguise. Perhaps if he ruined her little game, he would be free of this.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
01-05-2017, 07:51 AM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2017, 08:19 AM by Djinni.)
djinni raene
She waits, half-expecting an explosion of epic proportions, but he seethes silently as she watches.
Djinni had wondered if he was the right choice for this task, mulled over the potential consequences if he weren't. In the end, she'd decided that the effort - the responsibility - it would take for her to stay here wasn't worth it. she simply didn't want to lead a kingdom at this time, and foisting it off on someone else was far more desirable. She's never had an interest in power, and that doesn't change with the weight of a crown on her head.
She is somewhat disappointed at the lack of fireworks, and she doesn't hide it. Let Stillwater experience the little things in life; Djinni has already gotten what she wants. With a small frown that she shakes away, Djinni tells him that the terms will last: “Not for too long.”
“Long enough to make sure that Nayl has friends.” That’s what she’d been asked to do after all – make friends. She’d coincidentally also impersonated the Queen’s sister well enough to inherit a king (probably not what Nayl had wanted), but the pied queen of the sea will just have to accept that as a casualty of diplomacy. Djinni never’s been entirely able to control fate.
“You can call me Raene.” She replies, knowing that perhaps the name won’t be in use for long. “But I'll tell them I'm Djinni.” A sparsely populated kingdom often tends to be full of less-than-sparse personalities, but Djinni is up for the challenge. “You don’t like the hair?” She asks, affecting a rather hurt expression that Stillwater will surely know is false. With a blink of an eye, the salmon pink becomes black: “More to your liking? ”
current appearance: black spotted blanket appaloosa with salmon pink black mane and tail
"Not for too long. Long enough to make sure that Nayl has friends."
What the hell did he care whether or not Nayl had bosom buddies? Whatever. He didn't have a choice, and they both knew it.
"You don't like the hair?" She changed again, from pink to a charcoal black. "More to your liking?"
It amused him that she did that in response to him, changed how she looked, and he smirked though it didn't reach his eyes. What else would she do for him? Didn't he get any sort of reward for becoming her little pet? Without putting up too much of a fight, even. Never mind that he'd get his revenge. Never mind, that.
If you're going to humor me, Djinni --Raene, then show me who you really are. And, he added nonchalantly with a half-hearted shrug and quirk of his brow, come show me some affection for once. It was almost a challenge, because he knew she wouldn't. His natural sexual appeal didn't seem to affect her. But, he was a good dog, wasn't he? Good dogs needed some reward. He was vastly interested to see what she'd do about that.
Or. Become Nayl, and give me what she won't. Another challenge with laughing eyes. The idea of Nayl learning of that was darkly entertaining and he couldn't help the smirk stretching a little more. He could almost forget about the damned trinket coiled so sweetly around his ankle. Almost.
Come on, Djinni. Give me something to remember you by.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
01-07-2017, 12:18 PM (This post was last modified: 01-07-2017, 12:19 PM by Djinni.)
djinni
"I've always shown you who I am." She tells him, her expression clearing of any emotion slowly, almost as though she is struggling to process what he asks, and why he thinks he even has to.
She'd been helpless on the seashore for nearly six months, with nothing to her name but the mouse grey hide she was born into. She had naught but the wind in her black and white mane, and the sand clinging to her heavily striped legs. The sea had grown louder for a while - or perhaps the chatter of horses grew quieter - but eventually she had found it.
Tucked into the seashore, it remains
And so Djinni remains. She will stay along the grey-glass water and leave her footprints in the granite sand.
The large appaloosa mare disappears.
"Which would you prefer?" She retorts, settling into a body and face that seems to be precisely half Nayl and half Djinni. Not so blended in way that might be a child by natural means, but rather a pied mare with dark hair that in one instant seems to be both the Nerinian ironheart and the next the grey mage. Djinni remains that way for a moment, a challenge in her orange/black eyes for a hard while.
Then, and only then, does she change again, settling into the smoky grullo tobiano that had threatened him at their first meeting. Every thing is exactly the same, from the frosting in her mane to the minuscule golden earrings in her black tipped ears.
Everything is the same except her eyes, which instead of sea-glass green or black or molten golden or ice white as they often are, are soft and brown and gentle. Softer than the proverbial doe's eyes, Djinni's bright eyes are akin to a fawn's.
She has not forgotten his request: to show him affection for once. Now, in her true self, she stands before him.
"Why do you think I haven’t?" She asks him, taking a step forward with her head turned, until her cheek is but a hair away from pressing against his neck. Djinni has always been loose with her affection - a touch here, a hug there – her reluctance has been a recent change that she hadn't really even noticed. The question she asks is in equal parts meant for herself: Why hasn't she? Let him answer the question; surely that's better than finding her own answer.
"I've always shown you who I am."
He searched her eyes, seeking. Her face slowly blanked as she thought this request through. Truth. So, the smokey grullo wasn't another disguise. It was really her. He exhaled a slow breath, a faint smile at his lips.
"Which would you prefer?" she asked, and altered into a melding of both Djinni and Nayl. It was oddly disorienting at first as his eyes tried to see one or the other, as though they shimmered back and forth. Djinni, then Nayl, no Djinni still. And then she was wholly herself again, slender and gray. Beautiful. Breathtaking, even, in her way.
Her eyes were warm, and he was suddenly so cold. Could he fall into them just for tonight? Just for a moment.
"Why do you think I haven't?" she responded to his request for affection. It had been an off-handed challenge, one he hadn't expected her to take up or even if he'd meant it at all. But he thought she might have picked up that haphazard gauntlet, as she stepped forward. Her skin lingered so close to his, near enough to feel her body heat melting in with his, and he mirrored her movement; curling his head around just enough that his cheek didn't touch her neck either. Captivating.
It was Nayl all over again, wasn't it? This not-touching. He wanted to be touched, pulled them in close yet held them at a distance. Queens, both of them. He wouldn't take a Queen. Too much trouble, too many consequences. But he was harmless, now, wasn't he? Harmless.
Perhaps you're afraid of the hunger, his words huffed sweetly against her coat, a hot breath, still not taking that move to touch her. Though he could. He could. You sense it, don't you, Djinni. The hunger. The danger.
But he is harmless.
You will disappear if I touch you, won't you? he accused softly, a taste of sadness in his voice. She'd never really let him touch her, would she. She was always so tricky. Leave it to Djinni to tease and taunt, and at the very last second deny. Empty promises.
Just like Nayl.
come down to the black sea swimming with me go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it
Djinni is never afraid. There is no trap she cannot escape, no injury she cannot avoid, no danger she cannot outrun.
Of course, she can’t ever get away from herself, and so rather than admit to it – admit to weakness – she grows defiant.
“Try it.” Djinni taunts, her eyes flashing in challenge. She doesn’t give him a chance to accept, simply leans over and presses her head against his neck. She’s there for a single moment, long enough for her heart to beat but once, and then she’s gone.
“I don’t share.” She says from six feet away, her eyes returned to the glimmering green of their shared sea, the softness gone as quickly as it had come. She might have, a moment ago, a moment before he’d told her Nayl denies him just as she has. And she doesn’t share – but more importantly she does not settle for second best.
“I’m sure there’s some nice Sylvan mare who can show you a good time.” She adds, her voice deceptively helpful. Little does she know that Nayl has told him much the same: that he’s free to do what he wants, with whom he wants. The sentiment might be the same, but Nayl is probably less inclined to actually dispose of any of Stillwater’s potential paramours. No one will miss a backwater Sylvan mare. There is a rather convenient volcano in Tephra.
With hard eyes, she holds his gaze with hers for a moment longer, and then turns away as the appaloosa Raene, tossing the following words over her shoulder:
“I have diplomats to interview. Perhaps you could do something…fighting-y.”
current appearance: slim build smoky grullo minimal tobiano mare
