"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
She blends. It is a skill studied and perfected, long hours of learning what to do to blend even in a herd of galaxy-colored foals. Compared to her foster-siblings, Sloene had been plain; no magics, no funny colors, not excessively tall or short or fat or anything. The draining of magic from Beqanna had made it even easier, as suddenly so many more of them had been like Sloene. Plain. But they don’t blend. They’re off, so many of them, unused to being ‘normal’. Some have adjusted, some work hard to earn back their magics, and some are resentful and so obvious in their resentment.
Sloene avoids the resentful ones – they seem dangerous to her.
She’s dangerous enough by herself (Killer! Killer! Killer!) still rings in her head so many years later.
The grulla mare has blended so well that she doesn’t have a home yet, though she left her childhood home many years ago. Oh, she’s had casual friendships, traveled with others enough to not be a solitary psychopath, but she hasn’t made any lasting relationships. She hasn’t fulfilled the potential that Nera claimed to have seen in all of them, and it’s begun to weigh on her.
01-03-2017, 11:48 PM (This post was last modified: 01-03-2017, 11:55 PM by Celeana.)
Celeana
She can still hear her queen's insults thrown at her like poisonous barbs; No Celeana. You have to give respect to receive it. And her little protector's taunts; Here kitty kitty..... Here kitty kitty. Good kitty. Their words echoing... and echoing. It's completely non-stop. And she can't help it. She's inexperienced. She hardly knows how to shift at will, and it scares her. Sometimes she trapped in her feline form, wishing to join her mate as an equine... but she's trapped. Lost within her own being yet ever so connected. This drives our alabaster feline out of her homeland.
It is rare to see an amazonian mare in the field, there were so few out and about now a days. But as a pale big cat, that draws some attention.
She sinks through crowds and bodies, her heart thundering wildly within her head. The bloodlust knocking her off her rocker, her predator instincts kicking in, and she resists. Well she tries at least. With a gentle rumble in her throat, a trial to soothe her own instincts with a purr that came out more like a growl. A violent one at that. Her verdant gaze wavers clouded by predatory instincts, her tail lashing aggressively, as she comes upon a grullo mare. Her lips peal back into a snarl, a quite menacing one at that, and then she shifts.
It's uncomfortable and she's discombobulated, for a moment narrowing her emerald iris's upon the grullo mare. Ivory muscular neck, cranes with embarrassment. "I'm terribly sorry about that... It's not something I can quite control yet." Porcelain flecked eye lashes, glint in the withering sunlight of winter. She feels guilty, allowing her feline state to have full control over her mind. "I'm Celeana, care to share a name?" Her embarrassment washes over her once again, she feels terribly sorry for allowing herself to go full animal on this poor girl.
01-03-2017, 11:51 PM (This post was last modified: 01-03-2017, 11:54 PM by Aranea.)
Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies, across this new divide
Aranea knew she was a fool for coming here. It was almost laughable to think that she might be able to recruit without being able to actually TALK. But the ashen mare was going a little crazy without any jobs to do, so she wandered this direction nonetheless. Perhaps one would stick out that didn't seem like the type to think her a complete nutjob. Or maybe they all would. Whatever.
With nothing but her thoughts and the sounds of her hooves to accompany her she meandered amongst the homeless, seeking something... well, something. And when her fiery eyes landed on the sight of a rather simple looking mare she was curious. Sloene was a pretty little thing - those markings intrigued the lady of ash and fire - but there was something else, too. What exactly that something else was would be impossible to identify, but it lured the silent lady over nonetheless.
Bright eyes riveted on the stranger as she blew out a questioning breath, once she had drawn near enough, and hoped that this wouldn't be TOO awkward.
Well, no more awkward than a lion showing up, anyway.
Aranea doesn't start or shy away and only glances briefly at the spotted girl, who was a horse again for now. Though animal shifting was always something that intrigued her (it was not so common, back when she ruled) she had no mind for it, now. Her focus was on Sloene, though she still branded herself a fool for even bothering to come here.
She is never unaware of her surroundings – she is her only protection, and has been in the real wilds enough to know that a lack of awareness is a death sentence. So it is easy to track the lioness’ progress through the Field, even when she is hidden by legs or long grasses. After all, it may be Beqanna, but equines are unsettled by big cats anywhere, and so they move away from her. Some are startled, frightened, some merely move to stay out of the way, but they do move.
But while she is tracking the progress of the threat, she is also observing the approach of the dark colored mare, with strange eyes bright even from a distance, and she doesn’t actually put eyes on the feline until she is already close – too close for Sloene to get away, even if she chose the flight half of the flight-or-fight coin. The grulla mare tenses, silver eyes flickering towards the mare but settling quickly back on the feline because the threatening noise coming from the white lioness takes her way up the list of Sloene’s priority list than the quiet black mare.
And then the lioness is a mare. Sloene blinks, takes a deep breath as the girl-not-cat speaks to her, and allows herself to relax muscle by muscle. “Just as long as you’re not planning to eat us,” she responds, friendly voice betraying none of the anxiety her body had telegraphed. Now she can afford to look around, look back at the black mare, and she offers both mares a calm smile. “I’m Sloene,” the little mare says, the friendly smile staying put on her face because she knows it’s the part she is expected to play here; at least, it’s the part that Celeana is expecting her to play. Another look at the silent black mare tells her that the second mare isn’t looking for the same things.
But the black mare should be able to see the game, if she’s really looking for something else. And if not, the friendly supplicant seeking a new home should work for both of them.
Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies, across this new divide
Celeana. Sloene. And this... this is the moment she should be giving her name, too.
Aranea. It echoed in her mind and though her lips parted the sound stalled there. It was as though a lump rose in her throat and forced the words back down while nearly choking her in the process. Damned fairy magic and all that. Instead she can give them only a soft rush of breath, warm air pushed in the direction of the field-goer as if that might be introduction enough.
Once upon a time - way back to their ancestors when speech did not rule as it did now - it would have been. Now she knew she looked a fool as she stood there in silence and watched them both for a reaction, her attention largely on the grey mare. Sloene was the one that Aranea was most interested in -- the cat-girl already had a home, surely. Aranea had one, too, and the words that would offer it to Sloene ran through her mind and died again on her lips.
All she can do is lightly toss her head in the direction of her kingdom and level a questioning look on the grey one. The question burned in her eyes but for those that did not read minds it might not be so easy to unravel...
01-06-2017, 06:34 PM (This post was last modified: 01-06-2017, 06:35 PM by Celeana.)
Celeana
Sloene's vocals are sweet laced with a friendliness that was way too sweet and fluffy for Celeana's taste. It feels foreign, as it eases through her alabaster lobes. Far more gentle as it caresses her mind unlike the barbed words of her queen, and the many that stood behind her "Royal Highness".
Her emerald gaze meets the ebony flecked maiden that joins them. She seems to want to speak, but all she does, is mouth a word. She's unable to make it out, but she grows curious, her Porcelain cranium craning in a perplexed manner. Celeana is tempted to inquiry the mare, but she knew it would be foolish. It was easy to see, the mare was mute. She had met few mute many were telepaths, others relied on the gifts of mind readers.
Her curiosity peeks briefly, her focus remaining only on the blackened roan mare for a matter of seconds before returning her attention towards Sloene. "Pleased to meet you Sloane." Her white tail lashes at her hocks. And with a friendly grin curling up upon her lips, "What brings you to the field today?"
She hates to go to strictly business, she'd like at least some sort of friendly conversation. Anything to get her mind off of her queen's insults. Just anything.
Her life would be easier if she were not drawn to the complicated, the dark. She is rarely cruel without reason, not particularly mean, but she is drawn to these things in others, to the possibility of greatness that often accompanies it. She is similarly intrigued by the possibility of greatness in the very good, but they are so much harder to find, and so rarely reach their potential.
Silver eyes linger on the black mare for several moments beyond the normal, and she follows the gaze flickering towards somewhere – but it is not specific enough to pinpoint a homeland. The puzzle won’t be solved that easily – but a part of her is ok with that. It wouldn’t be a fun puzzle if it was that easy, after all. The words of the white mare draw her attention back to the present, and she appreciates the contrast between the two; no matter what lies inside, it hasn’t escaped her notice that on the outside, they are the embodiment of her own inner conflict. Sloene wonders if they are anything like the stereotypes she has imagined for them.
“I suppose, like many, I need a home.” she response to Celeana with another smile, including the black mare with a look and a chuckle. “I outgrew my childhood home, and with the Reckoning, I don’t really know where to settle. And I’m assuming, since you’re here, you both have homes in the new world.” she hesitates, looks at the black mare again. “I know the names. I can make an educated guess.” Celeana smells faintly of saltwater, of sand. “You smell of the sea, just a bit. So Ischia, perhaps, or Pangea, or Nerine.” And the black mare does not, but she smells of something else. Sloene frowns in concentration, taking a long moment to place the scent of sulfur – faint but unmistakable, even from a non-active volcano. “Tephra? That’s where the volcano is, right?” She had taken a grand tour, early on, but hadn’t ever picked a home.
Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies, across this new divide
Well, wasn't that convenient?
Aranea leveled her gaze on Sloene and made no effort to mask the admiration. She was smart and skilled - it was not so easy to discern a home from a mere scent, at least not when you had no home of your own. Aranea herself could not name them all - she had hesitated to visit more than Taiga, yet, with no voice to guide her. So it was easy to see why the soot and ash mare was impressed, and why her charred lips tugged in to the slightest smile.
Her answer came in the form of a bob of her head, followed by another toss in the same direction. It's that way was the clear response, though surely this smart little lady knew that.
Aranea was eager, now, and hopeful. It would be a true feat to bring home a new recruit without being able to give her the whole spiel about why she should come to Tephra. Aranea could not tell her how lovely the lands were and how warm they stayed, even in the winter. She could not speak of the strength and valor of their leader, or of the council that he was in the process of electing. Aranea's tongue was tied but the fire in her eyes spoke clearly of her desire to take Sloene home.
A strong exhalation was her only invitation, coupled with the question that burned in her eyes and the repeated motion of her head - would she join her?
Sloene, guesses her home with ease. And with a friendly nod of her porcelain cranium, "Yes, You guessed correctly. I hail from Nerine." Her vocals grow elegant as she speaks of her homeland. Home of the sisterhood and those that dwelled among it. Yet this wasn't home to the sisterhood of before, the sisterhood had changed drastically in fact males were allowed into the ranks once more, but of course still lacked the respect of most of the stubborn ladies that held residence.
Her gentle gaze falters for a moment, allowing herself to meet the eyes of the inky black mare only for a brief moment then returning her verdant eyes upon Sloene. "Sloene. Perhaps you would like to visit Nerine? Get a feel of the land, and perhaps even come to call it home?" She questioned with honesty laced words. She was sure anyone would wish to visit the sisterhood's piece of paradise.
In winter, the kingdom still flourished under the frigid conditions more and more sea life have begun to collect in her waters, Whales, and dolphins, and aquatic mammals. Along with bountiful fish, bubbling beneath the surface. Seabirds have begun nesting for their future clutches of eggs, upon the sand rock cliffs. Seals have squandered about on the rocks, that brushed against the breaking waves. And palm trees and vegetation had grown, surprisingly through the cover of winter that engulfed the land.
"We're not the sisterhood you might remember before the reckoning. Our ranks are opened to both sexes, and our numbers have grown. Plus the wildlife, and scenting is surely something not to miss." She speaks fondly of Nerine, and the sisterhood, and of the changes made.
She doesn’t really have a home preference. She doesn’t know much about any of the new lands – she’s not sure they’ve really had a chance to develop identities yet anyway – so she is relying on the two mares for reasons to pick a new place to live.
The mute, dark mare manages expressiveness even without a voice, which Sloene thinks is a grand feat in itself. It takes attention and effort on Sloene’s part as well, which would certainly make life difficult if she wanted to speak to someone who wasn’t willing to put in the effort to listen. But without any other skills, listening and blending and being smart were all things Sloene had learned as a child. After all, it’s not always what someone says that matters. Words are the easiest way to lie.
Celeana seems passionate about her home, but Sloene has to wonder – can the Amazons ever truly stop being the Amazons? Even without their Jungle? She smiles at the light colored mare, holding her green eyes as she talks about Nerine and offers Sloene a visit and a home, but her eyes consistently flicker back to the darker, nameless mare and the mystery that Tephra is.
Perhaps it is a flaw in her character that leads her to this decision, but she cannot resist the temptation of the unknown. “Thank you for the offer. Both offers.” a glance to either mare. “But I think I will go to Tephra.” she doesn’t offer an explanation, because she doesn’t have a real one. “But Celeana, I will certainly keep you and your sisters and Nerine in my thoughts for if I change my mind.” And she steps towards the dark mare, waiting for her to lead the way, and the unknown.
