"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
I'm an invisible monster,
and I'm incapable of loving anybody.
You don't know which is worse.
The grass was nearly tasteless in her mouth, gone was the sweetness of spring or the fullness of summer. Now in the fall, things began to slow down and die off for their yearly slumber. Scylla was ready for the changing of the guard and marveled at the brilliant yellows, and the glow of the burnt reds as the leaves danced down to the ground. The trees no longer looked like they were dancing with the skies, but rather like gnarled fingers warning of the harsh white that was to come. The invisible monster wandered aimlessly, unphased by the fact that she hadn't found Dahmer yet, or that she was utterly alone. She almost preferred it this way. No one to throw a hoof your way or threaten you. But she was an equine after all, and there was that instinctive need to be around those her own species for safety was rooted in her DNA. Still, the monster knew that there was no safety in numbers. She was not that naive. She never been that naive.
She raised her head from grazing, the feathered wings at her side adjusted and settled folded at her sides once again. Her tail lazily swished at the few flies that were so desperate to stay alive for just a few more weeks. There were clusters of horses here and there and honestly, Scylla wondered just exactly how this would all play out. Would she find more like herself? Broken china dolls glued back together by spit, chewed gum and clay? Would she find more like the demons of her past? Would she find love? Would she recognize love? Love felt like teeth against her neck, harsh words in her ears and hooves to the belly.
The invisible monster decided why not wander around and see who had the power to see her. Or perhaps she would find someone from a past life? The world was hers once again to do with it what she wished. Maybe she would finally figure out where she was and be better at figuring out where she belonged. She approached a stranger, and her voice called out, "Hey, where am I?" Always to the point without the frills of courtier talk. She was no lady. She was a wolf in sheeps' clothing desperately looking for the pack that always seemed to leave her alone.
It is a time of change, the crisp, cool air whispering of ice and snow, green leaching from the trees, sparking riots of color. The golden ambers, vibrant oranges, fiery reds sweep across the land, displacing vast swaths of monotone hue with vibrancy before everything settles to slumber. It is not often the roan and white-laced mare allows such beauty to stir her, but even she cannot be lost in the minutiae of her machinations every moment of every day. As much as such thoughts might consume her, even she needs to stop every now and again to admire the world in which they live.
To be honest, she hadn’t truly meant to come here, to the field. Not in the way that is so normal for her. No, normal would have been to scope out the inhabitants before she ever even set foot upon the grassy slopes. Normal would have been to come with purpose, to have a target and to seek that target with unerring accuracy. Normal would have been to have an alternative agenda.
Today though, today she is decidedly abnormal. Today she comes only to observe. To see and to feel. Though she can see a place without ever setting foot there, there is something distinctly different about seeing things with one’s own eyes. To taste and to smell and to feel, not just to see. Perhaps it is nostalgia, or perhaps it is something entirely different, but whatever the reason, she has come today as she is. No alternatives and no agenda.
To her surprise, she has been standing for only a short time, head lifted, wind riffling the dark locks of her mane and forelock, caressing her mottled skin, before she is approached by another. A single glance tells her it is no one she is familiar with. While she is familiar with a large portion of Beqanna, even she is not all-seeing.
Taking a moment to study the newcomer, she allows her pale blue eyes to linger, to assess what they can, before, after a somewhat lengthy pause, answering the question posed to her. “You are in the Field,” she answers easily, her tone vaguely friendly. “In Beqanna,” she clarifies then before shifting her weight to face the other mare more fully.
She pauses then, debating if she wishes to continue or simply allow her to continue on her way. Ultimately, however, it is really no decision at all. She is far too curious for anything else. “I am Heartfire. Is there something in particular that has driven you here?”
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
I'm an invisible monster,
and I'm incapable of loving anybody.
You don't know which is worse.
Scyla had lived in a thousand worlds, had seen Gods with shrines and powers beyond belief. She had seen cruelty and love. She was familiar with the spectrum of the what these worlds had to offer. And yet, here she was in a new one, no doubt far from Azza, Nocturne or any of the other worlds she had lived. The worlds seemed to revolve just the same. Spring into Summer. Summer into Fall. Eventually, the falling leaves and brisk air would change into frost on her whiskers and snow around her fetlocks. At least she had the added benefit of wings to add to the woolly coat she would inevitably grow.
The reason she had picked the blue roan mare was due to her spots (spotted creatures had to stick together right?), the blue eyes reminded her of Dahmer, and she was alone. She was also a mare. And while Scyla was not stupid enough to believe that mares were somehow less than stallions, the invisible monster wasn't in the mood to fight off the advances of some dumb, testosterone filled stud. Unless it was Dahmer of course. She inhaled her scent, storing it for future reference just in case she needed to phone a friend for a really hard question or something.
The Field. Beqanna. Those words had no meaning to her personally yet but she thought it was probably as good of a place as any to start searching for her wayward brother. "The Field. Beqanna." She absentmindedly muttered the names under her breath and stored them. This would be her homing beacon, the first place she started her search and rescue. Her brown eyes meet the blue, and her ears flick forward. She makes sure that pays attention to her name. Heartfire. Interesting. She wondered if this was somehow related to her powers. Or maybe she didn't have powers. Did they have powers here? Scyla had yet to find out. "I'm looking for my brother. Perhaps you've seen him? His name is Dahmer. He's got blue eyes like yours." Descriptive...she knew, but it had been some time since she had last seen him. "I'm Scyla."
There are so many worlds beyond the single small realm they dwell in. Heartfire might be a native of this land, but she has seen far beyond. There is more than just this earth, this place. There are incredible, vast swaths of space and time and earths still unexplored. And perhaps she is only one small piece in the whole of Beqanna or the world, but she has explored some of those worlds beyond. She had even called one home for many years, a lengthy story of war and heartbreak and triumph and love. Certainly if anyone could understand a reticence to share such things, it would be the blue and white mare.
But she is only one mare, and keeping track of one world is hard enough. By and large, she ignores the other worlds out there. They are not her problem, after all.
However, this spotted mare with fading skin and heavy eyes that tell of secrets and stories is here, in her world. And that has made her quite interesting. Especially with the clear intent in her step and demeanor, a thing that speaks of purpose for her visit. And Heartfire, nosy creature that she is, has no qualms about attempting to uncover such purposes.
In this case, it proves simple enough, given that the other woman seems willing enough to tell her. At least, in part. She is certain however that there is more here than meets the eye. And so a mare that she might normally have paid little attention to has now become suddenly quite intriguing. A small foible of hers, she supposes.
As luck would have it however, the white-laced mare does know of the particular stallion of which she speaks. Indeed, she has even met him herself. While she does know of a large portion of Beqanna’s population, she is only one horse. She might know of many horses, but she has not met most of them. At least, not yet. As it happens however, she had once stumbled upon him quite by accident. Much like how she had just met his sister. Seems it must run in the family.
Less fortunately for Scyla, she had not seen fit to keep track of him. He had been interesting enough, but relatively harmless. And typically, she does not deal in harmless. With faint quirk of her lips, she responds easily to the inquiry. “I have seen him, actually. Although it has been ages.” She pauses, considering the mare before her speculatively for a moment before continuing, “I do believe I might be able to locate him for you though.”
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
I'm an invisible monster,
and I'm incapable of loving anybody.
You don't know which is worse.
No one can mistake the excitement that lit up the brown eyes of the invisible monster. It was like fireworks went off in her head and a dance party was about to begin. How exciting! She had seen Dahmer! And she didn't seem too put off by the grey and white winged mare. Aces all around! With no idea how big Beqanna was, Scyla was determined to find Dahmer at any stretch of imagination and make him pay for leaving her...mostly with excitement, love and some playful sibling nudges. There was no bad blood between them and only they could truly understand their childhood with Desole at the wheel. Perhaps that was why she was the way she was now. A broken toy that half-heartedly tried its best to stay relevant. Maybe that was why the blue roan mare felt any sort of interest in Scyla.
It had been a long flight and the muscles that weren't even that old were fatigued, stiffening with every passing moment and so Scyla shifted them again, before folding them against her. This is when it would be nice to find a hot tub. Or do some yoga. Something to take the edge off. She watches as recognition comes sweeping over the blue roan mare and adds one small clue to the puzzle that was her brother. Scyla shifts her weight back and forth the way a foal might with a game in mind. "Oh you know him!" The happiness in her tone could not be ignored. She then listens as the other tells her that she hadn't seen him in awhile. The invisible monsters excitement ebbs away a little bit, but the offer stood of her helping her finding him. "And ruin the game? No, thanks though. It'll be more fun to see if I can find him myself." She grins at the thought of surprising him. "Besides if you help me find him, I won't ever hear the end of it. It'll be forever be 'Scyla can't track...remember when Heartfire had to help you find me? Mother would be so disappointed.' That sort of thing. And I just CANNOT handle that for the rest of my life."
She wonders if Heartfire had siblings and if she understood how they could be. Her older sisters Estrella and Liath largely ignored her and Scyla had no idea where they had ended up. Her younger sister Lacrima was destined to live her life without the odd family that she had come from. Perhaps it was for the best that all of Desole's children did not live in the same place. Life in Beqanna would certainly be interesting with all of them bickering and trying to demonstrate which were what Mother had wanted for them the most. Dahmer and Scyla though were so close in years and upbringing that there would be no way for them to be parted. Once Scyla actually found him. "I'm not going to search for him today...so, what do you do for fun around here? Anything cool to see?" A typical tourist. Ready with a camera and a closed wallet.
It has been far too long since Heartfire has felt excitement such as Scyla is feeling. Her body may be young, deceptively so, but her soul is an old one. Ancient almost. She had lived a lifetime already, grown old in a body that had withered with age until she had been plucked away and redeposited in the youthful body she had once left behind. It is something almost impossible to comprehend and even more difficult to explain. And so, she does not try. Others look at her and see someone odd, cold and calloused in a way only those who have seen too much can be.
But she has seen too much, lived too long. It is not odd at all.
She allows a faint smile to touch her lips at the other woman’s words. Words that spill from her lips in blurred excitement, buoyed by the thrill of the chase. “In that case,” she responds easily, a hint of amusement coloring her tone, “I shall refrain from interfering in your game.” A game she has no knowledge of, one she had inadvertently been placed in the middle of. She does not mind terribly however. It would be rather hypocritical of her. She plays her own games, one with ends so very few can see or appreciate. Hers however, tend to be of the much more dangerous variety.
In a sense, perhaps her brother is lucky he had not somehow become entangled in the dramas she so often becomes party to. She is not certain he would have appreciated them as she does.
She can understand the dynamic of siblings however. Though her relationship with her own twin is much less playful, they had been children once. They had played as other children might. Of course, her twin could never hide from her for long, so this particular game is not one they had ever attempted. She is far too good at hide and seek. She would win every time.
For a moment, she eyes Scyla curiously as she continues, her exuberant questions hanging in the air. She is a curious creature, and Heartfire has always had a difficult time resisting curiosities. Of course, there is not much that has the ability to hold her attention for long. For the time however, she could prove quite interesting.
“I am not certain our definitions of fun are similar enough,” she finally answers. Unless of course, Scyla thought staring off into space was fun. That is, after all, what it would appear to most that she was doing. In truth, she would have her sight cast far from her body, watching and learning and gleaning what she can. “However,” she continues, amending the rather abrupt words that she realizes may have sounded like a dismissal, “there are some rather impressive sights around. I come from Nerine, so I am most familiar with those vistas. You are welcome to join me if you would like to see for yourself.”
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
I'm an invisible monster,
and I'm incapable of loving anybody.
You don't know which is worse.
Scyla watched the roan mare carefully. She had referred to finding Dahmer as a game but to this invisible monster, there was nothing more serious. Well, as serious as the tovero could muster. Despite their similarities, fading away while being spotted, and the fact they were both in the field, Scyla was keenly aware that they were different creatures. Then again, the monster had never found someone that even close to her. Perhaps it was all the mental scarring. Either way.
She waited patiently for the other to speak. It would seem Heartfire liked to consider everything before opening her mouth. What a novel skill! Scyla thought that perhaps she should take notes, but then remembered that she hadn't brought a pencil. No notes were happening today at least. Her ears pricked completely forward when she suggested that they did not have the same definition of fun. Her curiousity would be saited! "Wait...what do you consider fun?" There had to be a difference that Scyla could figure out for herself. But before she gets to the root of everything, she finds an invite to some place called Nerine.
Those brown eyes consider the roan's blue softly but the wonder was still very prevalant in her mind. "I'm game. How do we get there?" She stuck out a wing forward as if to invite Heartfire to lead the way. A million questions were swirling around in her head but she managed to restrain herself, if only to wait to see what this Nerine was and what these daring vistas that Heartfire found so enthralling were. There was a curious smirk on her face, imaging that maybe Heartfire found pebbles exciting. Or clumps of strange trees. Or maybe a sparrow. Common place things that took the roan's breath away. It was hard to know but Scyla was willing to find out.
@[Heartfire] I figure we switch to Nerine? Maybe? Let me know! <3
