"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
There are countless differences between himself and the mind reader. Color, size, mannerisms; it’s to be expected, what with them practically being from different eras. Consider the circumstances: Voltage was born into a world that no longer existed for Crevan. If the thought-snatcher had opened his mouth and relayed where he’d come from and what he was searching for, the names would seem like gibberish - Gemstone Ridge, Nexa... Just forgotten blips of time, now.
It’s not like the recognition that dawns on his face when Kharon mentions Ischia, moreso through definiton than by actual title, but Crevan knows it all the same. He’s heard of the island, seen it himself from the murky beaches of Taiga on a clear day - nothing but a speck of brown in the otherwise endless sea of grey. It’s never occurred to him that the water might not be so muddied there, that the weather and atmosphere could induce a feeling of perpetual enjoyment heightened only by the bliss of a feeling he’s never known - a nice buzz. Despite himself he’d felt a prick of curiosity. He was yet a boy, after all, still restricted to home and family by expectations.
“Perhaps someday.” He had thought while Voltage made his decision.
But now, with his eyes straining towards the West while he bodily led the bay telepath through the Forest, that day felt very far from this one. “Why do I still get the feeling that I’m uninformed?” Crevan suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had shrouded them since the two had left the Field. In shock of having his privacy so horribly violated and made a mockery of all in one go, the mute shifter had only nodded his head and turned to acquiesce Voltage’s decision. No farewell, no invitation for the others to follow, just a simple, brutish sort of nod and then he was off.
His dark hooves fell heavily on the brittle leavings of twigs and root, each step driven by youthful resentment until the sound had a sort of repetitive, thrumming beat. “I can’t imagine that my speech might have had anything to do with your revealing decision,” he huffed with a thump, thump, thump. “brilliant as it was.”Thump, thump, thump.”“I mean really, to stand there the whole time and just …”Thump, thump, thump.
He stopped. Grating together as they were, a growl rattled past his teeth. It overpowered him, the very nature of it all - Kharon and Voltage exchanging silent, quick glances - and with the slam of a single hoof he rounds finally on the elder bay, ears pinned and mouth disposed to a frown. “Are there any more secrets you’d like to reveal? You know, before I let you loose among my friends and family?”
09-12-2017, 08:56 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2017, 08:56 PM by Voltage.)
Of Hamilton & Yasmine
Their journey towards Taiga had been anything but quiet. Crevan's hooves were getting louder with each touch of foot to earth, and the boy's thoughts were becoming increasingly heated. This leaves Voltage feeling rather perplexed. One would expect the colt to be over the moon with the accomplishment of his first successful recruit, but the opposite was the unfolding situation here. Still, the bay follows along peaceably, not wanting to take the time to inquire. However, it seems that the youngster has decided to do something about the bee in his bonnet, right here and now, as he stops dead in his tracks and lays into Voltage angrily.
Well, he isn't shy about speaking his mind, pardon any puns. Although Voltage lacks an iota of remorse about using what was his heritage-given talent, he knows when it is time to make a concession. Sleeping with one eye open was quite awkward, and he had no real wish to take up that particular habit. He wouldn't be himself, though, if he meekly begged for forgiveness, especially a forgiveness he didn't actually care to obtain. "If it displeases you to hear my voice in your head, I promise to refrain from doing so in the future. However, if you'd rather hurl accusations of holding secrets at me, I can turn around right now; the Field isn't so far away from where we stand. And if you don't want secrets hidden from you, should you not be glad that you already know of my telepathic ability? " He half-turns back the way they had come, keeping one eye aimed at Crevan for his reaction.
09-13-2017, 04:11 PM (This post was last modified: 09-13-2017, 06:59 PM by Crevan.)
forget all the names we used to know
A thousand thoughts drown him, unbidden. “Why would anyone want you in their head? Why should I even care? What else can you do? What else happened in the Field? Why did you go with me? Why did you go with me? Why …”
“For the love of -” Crevan spits suddenly, closing his eyes as if blocking the very sight of Voltage would bar him from gorging on the unspoken words in his head. The shifter boy has always been a solemn creature, prone to bouts of silence and moody reflection. It was the first time he felt truly exposed (embarrassed, really) and the sting of his new recruits calm demeanor only serves to drive him further into himself and therefore further into needless anger. It’s only the bitter lash of truth from Voltage that snaps him out of his temper - and none too soon since the bay has already lifted a hoof in threat.
“Wait,” He breathes then, expelling pent up frustration in the form of a deep sigh. “just wait.”
Fuck him. The telepath was right. It only serves to remind the youth that his own talents were yet veiled - Voltage had no knowledge of his wolf form, or that he could breath fire. “Well, now he does you idiot.” Conscious prods, and Crevan groans outwardly. “This is all just so damn much for me - it’s giving me a headache.” He admits, turning about to pace from one edge of the trail to the other. “I’ve never come across your ability before, it startled me. I can’t even stop my own mind from saying something regretful. I have no idea what you can and can’t hear.”
That admission halts him. With a hopeful glance to the elder stallion Crevan’s momentary lapse in decorum is entirely forgotten. “Can I keep you from hearing things I’m thinking?”
09-16-2017, 08:37 PM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2017, 08:38 PM by Voltage.)
Of Hamilton & Yasmine
A jumble of thoughts chase each other through Crevan's mind, so chaotic and "loud" that Voltage can't help but pick up on them despite his offer to keep out of the youngster's brain. He chooses, however, to pretend that he heard none of it and responds only to the Taiga resident's spoken words. Out of the eye still facing the colt, the telepath sees him lift a hoof as if about to make an angry strike at him. His head draws back like a snake's as he wonders if the boy is truly that foolish; but then the moment passes and Crevan seems to come to his senses. Good boy. Unaware yet of Crevan's wolfshifting and fire-abilities, Voltage muses that such a strike would not have ended well for the younger male. Those secrets are quickly and accidently revealed, and his eyebrows would have been hopelessly tangled up in his forelock had he possessed such features. There was definitely more to Crevan than met the eye....he would be a force to be reckoned with when he came into maturity. The bay stallion mentally congratulates himself on deciding to work on placing himself on his recruiter's good side.
He listens to his companion as he paces anxiously, nodding absently but also as a gesture of understanding. Were their roles reversed, and it was his own private thoughts put to risk, Voltage has little doubt he would be appreciative, either. Crevan asks if it were possible to protect his inner mind, and Voltage nods once again before elaborating. "Well, yes and no. You can't stop a telepath from reading your thoughts, even if you know one is digging around in your skull. That said, you can lie about it if you are trying to trick said telepath. There is no emotion tied to mindreading, only straight facts. Or non-facts. So if you realize you've got someone else in your head, you can feed them misinformation, and they won't know the difference. Or, you can choose to let them know you're on to them, and generate amusing yet physically impossible suggestions as to their parental heritage. Especially if they're within your eyesight and you'd like to see their reaction. " The question had been a good one, and Voltage mentally adds another point in the boy's favor. "Any further questions? We should be getting on to your Taiga...."
Nothing passes through the forest these days without being noticed. He has eyes everywhere. It’s not much different from when he had noticed Straia’s ravens and had found a way to use the birds to his own advantage. Usually he leaves most visitors alone, the motley crew keeping to the dark shadows of the wooden depths. Biding their time.
Today they garner his interest, enough to make him slip his coat of shadows and appear before them. Two boys, one older and one younger. The younger was vexed with his companion, the white wraith had been lurking long enough to pick up pieces of the argument. To realize they may be worth his time.
His ruby gaze is cool and appraising as he flicks his attention to the man who can pluck thoughts from ones head as well as place them (so very very useful, he would press his fingers together if he could with the anticipation of adding to his collection) to the wolf-shifting boy. Oh Crevan was far from a stranger to him. He had made it his priority to know at least the names, if not the faces, of those that he did business with. The water mare’s child, the scent of Taiga and wolf still a harsh scent on his pelt. He smells burning, he smells potential.
He had revealed himself at a crucial time, as Voltage instructs the young wolf on some of the finer points of his ability. ”And can you place misinformation in their heads?” Curious words that slip from his tongue, laced with his intentions. ”Can the roles be reversed I wonder.” Magic never ceased to amaze him, this trait was new to him. Undiscovered. He itches to unravel it, to discover it’s source. A pause as he considers them thoughtfully.
”No point wasting your time on a fruitless journey.” Gaging their reactions. ”Taiga is no more.” It was always interesting to see how they reacted to the news. It made no sense to him, the Chamber had been lost long ago and he had not wailed and mewled with grief. It was nothing but dirt, a land. Plenty more where that came from. ”But there’s always a consolation prize.” Another forest, another kingdom. One he planned on taking for his own.
And so the boy learns. Some lessons are harder than others to accept but with Voltage here to explain, most of the rash anger he’d summoned begins to cool into embarrassment. There were chinks in the armor of a telepath, it would seem - words lacking emotion, empathy were the trick to overthrowing an invasive leech. The last tip Voltage gives actually rouses the bark of a laugh from the muddy colt before Crevan furrows a brow to concentrate a bit too hard on staring at the bloodred stallion he’d recruited.
“You look like the offspring of a donkey fucking a goat.” He relays mentally, breaking the austere composure of his face to burst into further fits of laughter. “Like that?” He sighs heartily, swinging his navy tail with relaxed effort now that the tension between them seems to have passed. Voltage is right, though, they should be moving on and Crevan intends to do just that until another horse approaches from the long shadows of the Forest. With a matted pelt of stark white scars and eyes like blood to offset them, Gryffen’s demeanor serves to lower Crevan’s ears with distaste.
The fact that the white wraith looks over him first only pushes them further into his navy mane. “Taiga is no more.” Gryffen tells them and, unbidden, Crevan’s mouth slacks open. “Circinae…” He breathes incredulously, the shock of news sending him into an unwanted shift. His back arches, snaps, while the hair covering his coat thickens and bleaches out. Shrinking, his body melds quickly together once more and, wholly wolf, he leaps away from them without a second thought except -
Except for Voltage.
Torn, the bone-pale monster skids to a stop and rounds back once more with the lash of his whiptail. Rounded, navy eyes lift to connect with his recruit’s and, quick learner that he is, the boy switches to mind-speak. “I won’t go without you. It could be a trap, after all.” He thinks, lips pulling back in a snarl as his head whips around to glare at Gryffen. “I’ve never met this horse before anyhow.”
“Prove it.” He baits aloud, the sound reverberating past his locked teeth as a vibrating growl while Gryffen now holds his focus. “One lie and I swear -” The boy thinks.
The colt listens well to Voltage's spur of the moment lesson, and even elicits a chuckle from the bay stallion when he offers up an amusing example to match the telepath's suggestion. "Yes, just like that. " And you look like the south end of a northbound mule, he jibes back playfully. All seems to be settled between them, and he is in mid hoof-lift in preparation to resume the trek behind his guide with no further annoying disruptions likely to occur. And then, they are interrupted before they even begin, by a milky-coated newcomer who practically radiated danger without any need to first traverse through the stranger's mind for warning signs. He doesn't seem to mean them any harm however, and so Voltage is intrigued rather than feeling the need to place Crevan between himself and the cremello as a matter of self-preservation. He nods in response to the query of misinformation. "Yes, indeed.....depending on what's said of course. There should be juuust enough of an edge of truth in it that it will be believed, but I'm sure you're aware of that; you've seen plenty of the world, haven't you? " Not that it bothers Voltage to learn of Gryffen's deeds. The strong took, the weak yielded and endured. That was the way of things. Nexa and her followers had been strong, and the Dale had been theirs accordingly, no matter how briefly it had lasted.
The white stallion's declaration that Taiga has fallen draws little reaction from Voltage-it was a place he'd never even gotten to see and apparently now never would-but the boy is quite a different story. He abruptly transforms into lupine form and begins to dash off after uttering a name, but then seems to recall that he's about to leave his new "buddy" behind if he does so and comes rushing back. The wolf-shifter thinks up words meant for Voltage's silent hearing only, and the bay makes no indication that he's done so. There was always the chance that it was indeed a trap, especially if Crevan had no idea who this was. And this means that Voltage does not have to keep the "hands-off" pledge he had offered. Oh, he'd have kept to it, if only to keep the peace, but he'd not have enjoyed wondering what was going on in that head and being unable to find out. He accordingly sifts delicately and carefully, through the ghostly equine's thoughts, only seeking out the truth to his claim. This one had far too many skeletons in his closet for the short span of minutes available. Wolves. Wolves, nightmarish wolves, and a volcano and a boiling ocean.....Beqanna herself taken form to unleash her rage upon the land. Yep. It sounded pretty uninhabitable to him. He relays all of this to Crevan. His name is Gryffen, and he took your Taiga from a stallion named Ruan. He's telling us the truth, Crevan. But we may see if his words match his thoughts. He rests his eyes upon Gryffen, waiting for him to speak further.
He remains stoic and unconcerned in the wake of the boy’s anger. In fact he looks quite bored. Surely he would feel for the colt, losing his home. Nostrils flare with disdain. The Chamber had been swallowed up long ago, his home. He hadn’t mourned or grieved, been outraged. He dealt with the loss with a shrug of his shoulders and set off for more appealing pastures. Earth was earth. It could all fall in the end.
The bay stallion on the other hand is more interesting. He answers his questions factually, he likes that. Straight to the point, no overwrought outrage for a land he never knew. Nor does it bother him that Voltage flicks through his thoughts like a file cabinet, he had once let Deimos do the same to win him to his side. He would do the same now, let him take that thought as well. A queer smile finds his lips, an appraising glint in the depths of crimson. ”You see for yourself.” Not an invitation, knowing he has already done so.
He’s aware of the pressing presence in his head, the only sign of his irritation is the swiveling of his ears as they flatten against his skull. He is silent as the telepath roves through his mind and he pushes the memories of Taiga’s falling to the forefront. Let him focus on those instead of other things he would rather keep to himself for now. The bay withdraws from his filing system and the wraith gives his satisfied smirk in response before Voltage confirms the truth.
He assumes they are speaking to each other in privacy so he continues on, letting his ruby iris’s narrow on the wolf. ”I’m assuming you know another wolf that shifts from an emerald mare? She’s come around to seeing my way of things… Mostly.” He starts, figuring that most of Taiga’s wolves were packed together. Circy was still rather an enigma, he had seen her desire but the reason why was still not exactly clear. It wasn’t to please him, this is certain. Revenge was one part, to spite the absent ruler that had let them down. However he feels there’s more to it then that… Perhaps Taiga’s downfall had opened a Pandora’s box deep within herself. Releasing things she hadn’t been aware of herself. ”Ruan either fled or drowned, he has not been seen. He was a weak King. I am not.” In his mind, he leaves a tantalizing thought pushed foremost to his brain. One that can’t be missed by the memory diver. Follow me.
The two are quick to cement truth in his mind. Nearly as quickly as Voltage’s thought-speak penetrates his mind, so does Gryffen’s tongue clash against the tone in his head. Both speak of things he’d asked for - destruction, Circinae, Taiga - and end quietly with only the flick of their eyes towards each other. Stunned, Crevan lapses into silence while Gryffen parlays the final moments for his once home. Gone, then? All of Taiga?
“I should go.” The wolf says, earnest in his desire to leave now that such a thing had been confirmed. His troubled eyes jerk upwards, watching the stallions exchange a private glance he knew all too well from watching Voltage in the Field. He sighs, leans forward to press a cold, pink nose against the rounded bulge of Voltage’s knee for tracking him, and then presses a final, private goodbye into the forefront of his thoughts for the bay, “If you end up with this Gryffen, I have no doubt we’ll see each other soon.”
The sideways turn of his body allows for a final glance at the pale, red-eyed horse. “My mother is sharp enough to understand a benefit when she sees one.” He mutters darkly, (in warning?) before turning to flick an equally as pale tail up, over his hips. A trot lifts him into swift movement and then, with a single bound, he leaps into the shadows of the Forest to vanish.
