"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
Another arrives, a boy, he seems to follow behind the Ruler of Air and yet hangs behind her. The white wraith chortles to himself, even the boy is lacking in conviction of supporting her. Not surprising. The blue roan presses against him and he tosses his head in agreement, his irritation rising with hers. This Queen, for she says nothing but he assumes by the follower behind her she must be the evasive ruler, has a whole kingdom at her feet. Wasted potential. His distaste for her is evident, he does not bother to hide it.
She is silent like an abandoned forest, only the wind seems to rustle about her. Twisting strands of hair about her face as she simply stares at them. ”Did you hear me love?” Knock knock, anyone home? ”Taiga…. It’s gone.” He looks to the malicious creature beside him, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders. A swiveled ear behind him tells the feathered mare still stands, feeling her eyes on his back. Prying little wytch, perhaps one day she would become useful or better yet.. More interesting.
”Do you not get many visitors? Your diplomacy skills are… Lacking.” He growls, his patience waning with every second of dead air.
Ivar shifts beside Heda, the shoulder that was pressed reassuringly to her golden side now tense beneath his scaled hide.
The simpering of the roan mare is grating both to his dark ears and to the open wound that is the Taiga, Ivar grits his teeth as he watches the curve of Heda's face for a reaction. A moment ago, he believed them emissaries of a sort, but the more they speak the more he doubts their intentions.
Still, he means to stand back, and manages to do so for a decent while, at least until the mare with feathers in her hair begins to creep closer. The flame colored mare has not added anything to the taunts of her companions, but her physical proximity is enough to serve as a sufficient challenge.
The red-eyed stallion speaks again, and it seems to Ivar that he expects Heda to have as little care taking turns in conversation as he does. Ivar, who usually follows the same patterns, has had enough.
"She asked what you wanted."
He says, moving forward and in slightly in front of Heda, tired of the volley of words and irritates by the attitudes of these strangers.
Ivar knows that it is not his place to speak, but it is also not these foreigners' place at all - they do not live here, they were not invited here, and they seem to have no purpose of any sort.
"Either answer, or leave."
He is careful - very careful - to appear nonthreatening. Let them think him weak; he has no need to impress them.
These are no diplomats, their words are cruel and poorly pointed, and the pale one, their ring leader seems to hold no sense of patience as the golden queen absorbs every bit of information, like a sponge absorbing the filth from the floor. There is little speak of Loess, her land, but there is much to speak about Taiga, her nostrils flare at the hint of her father's mistakes, as Ivar slips his way to her side, his warm obsidian scales pressing against her skin in comfort of the current situation.
She remains silent, her mind spurring forwards in a whirl wind of thoughts, father had done wrong? But why but how, all she can manage to expel at first is simple, the answer to his first question. "I am Queen here, and I rule something far more impressive than dirt." Her words, are strong and resilient despite the low blows made by the pale thing and his minions. Now o answer the second question, her mind whirls once more, what had he done wrong? He was a father to her, but a loyal king to his subjects, he kept them safe, protected them, what was this that the red eyed stallion was talking about?
She releases a breath, as Ivar seems to protectively step in from of her, his words firing at the alabaster man with precision. And the pale thing speaks out of impatience, and his words surprise her. A sore lump forms in the back of her throat, Taiga is gone? Was Jinju, Terran, and Ander alright? Was her father alright?all she can muster is a simple, "What?" her tone is soft, like a raspy whisper as she soaks in the information, her childhood home gone? But how? "What did my father do...." Her voice trails off.
Her hazel gaze searching Ivar's face for an answer, her brain practically spinning trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her father's work, his devotion to his people, was all gone. She gulps, eyes resigning to the crimson gems of the porcelain stallion, and with strong steady words she emits, "What mistakes did my Father make?" .
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
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Lame I know, but she has no idea that Taiga was gone so she wants to know the scoop on everything...
”And perhaps you are as daft as she is.” Her voice utters with a soft edge that does not quite match the darkness lingering within the single dreary gray eye roving over the length of his body. She cannot suppress the wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth at his valiant attempt at chivalry – little does he seem to realize he is only showing her weakness, her vulnerability by standing before her, by speaking for her. ”As Gryffen said, our purpose is dependent on who she is. Are you who we seek, nameless one? Or are you simply one of her suitors chomping at the bit for a piece of what she has?”
Her tone no longer has a gentle cadence, darkening with each heavy word, venom seeping out in between each uttered syllable. The predator within her is lurking under the surface, and her blackened eye traverses the tender column of his neck, observing the line where his throat and jaw meet, where her sharp and piercing teeth might find a supple place to sink into – to taste the blood churning with ferocity through his veins. To quiet him, to silence him. He was far less grating when he kept to himself. Such a foolish boy, to not keep it that way.
I am Queen here - she admits at last, and a lilt of laughter emerges from her throat, light but wicked, as her gaze searches the irritation stirring menacingly within the dark and tumultuous crimson of her companion. Her wicked smile has become little more than a faint, demure smirk, altogether amused by how soft and fragile she seemed – she wondered if it was a ruse, if she might be hiding her prowess behind a carefully constructed façade –
Father, Heda whispers, and a sordid impishness floods through the entire length of her body, setting her already aching nerve endings alight with an agitation she can hardly keep to herself.
”He abandoned all that followed him,” she croons softly to the gilded Queen, delight gleaming within the silver flecks of her curious and mischievous gaze. ”after failing to answer the call of his challenger. We took Taiga,” she murmurs, raking her teeth along the ridge of Gryffen’s jaw, tasting the musk lingering there. Her delectable, devious was the true and rightful King – he always would be, in her mind - we merely referred to all those who followed him; who ached for the same destruction and chaos that he did. ”but it fell soon afterwards when the wolf could not leave well enough alone.”
And then, cruelly, ”Because of him, Taiga and all those who failed to escape the wolves of magma and of water have drowned. What a pity.”
The boy moves closer to the winged woman, shifting himself before her. His words are sharp but lack conviction, lack the acidity that the blue roan and the white stallion had perfected. Red eyes roll with amusement, a grin on his lips as he finds the gaze of his companion. Can you get a load of these two? I know right? His burning eyes settle on the scaled man, the amusement gone as quickly as it had come. ”I don’t believe we were talking to you. Unless you rule here…” Nostrils flaring as Thana’s voice intercepts. Unable to keep the smirk that twists his lips in cold humor. Shifting to look at Heda when she finally speaks. ”Ah… As I thought.”
Ivar does not scare him, he is not intimidated. Far from it. He side steps around the black and white stallion, to look at the Queen with more intent. ”So she can speak for herself. What exactly do you rule Queen of Loess? So far we have only seen the two of you… Quite a change from those that I rule.” Even when he was without a land, they had followed him. Seen his purpose, known him as a leader. Who would follow her to the ends of the earth? One lone stallion who doesn’t know any better?
Her confusion about Taiga brings him glee, watching the lines of her face as they contort with bewilderment. As she looks to her companion for answers. It is Thana that gives them.
The puzzle pieces click. They were related, this Queen and the former Taiga Alpha. He is silent, merely watching, as she weaves the story of Taiga’s demise into a painted picture for all to see. But his gaze doesn’t linger on her, instead it moves to Ivar. Watching. Dissecting. Observing. ”But you knew that already… didn’t you?” He murmurs quietly, when his own wolf finishes speaking. Reading between the lines, the hesitance to step forward before. The worry in his eyes.
”But don’t worry about us.” His face splits into a jovial grin, seeking his Nightmother’s neck as he places a delicious deep kiss on her cobalt skin. ”We have a new kingdom to run, don’t we little bird?”
09-20-2017, 10:48 PM (This post was last modified: 09-24-2017, 04:01 PM by kahzie.)
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The way Thana traces the line of his throat, the hunger in her eyes; he has seen that look before. He knows it, knows instinctively to doubt the flat teeth revealed when the blue mare had spoken before, and now when she speaks to drive the knife of the Taiga deeper into Heda.
The muttered words of the mare beside go unheeded as he observes the small mare searching for his weakest point.Rather than cower, instead of shrinking away and lowering his head to protect his pulsing jugular, he smiles.
It's the first time he's done so since joining the entourage, and it transforms his solemn face. Scowling as he had been, Ivar was striking, but now that he smiles there is a beauty to his features that exceeds nature. It is a lure, irresistible bait for his hooved prey. It is fortunate then, that he doesn't use it against the little roan mare. The smile (amused, as if she is a pup playing wolf for his benefit) widens to a grin as he raises his head. A taunt and a tease, he reveals his throat to Thana, every inch of him transmitting a nonverbal:
(try me)
It is enough to pull him from his unassuming shell, from the role of quiet protector. It was never his intention to appear threatening, and so of course they do not fear him.
Not yet.
Even now he seems cocky, too sure of himself, surely nothing more than a strikingly handsome fool.
When the wraith addresses him, pulling the truth from ten thousand more likely possibilities, he only nods. He had seen it, seen Azar pulled beneath the water, heard the fey cry that "Enough" had been done. They had been told to run, all of them; no distinction between one side and the other. The tale these strangers spin of the cause of destruction melds with his own recollection, but there is no need for the barbs in their retelling, no need for the blame they place solely on the purple wolf.
"Go back to your kingdom," Ivar tells them, taking another step forward (almost lazily) to be between Gryffen and Heda again, knowing that he is cutting the buckskin mare off from the heart of the conversation. "Come back with better manners, next time, or do not come back at all." His tone matches his body language: sure of himself, incredibly sure, but completely without the bravado of unnecessary posturing.
Ivar has never minded playing the fool.
He is taking away Heda's autonomy, attempting to send away those strangers with a command only she should truly issue. The pied stallion does not regret his actions; this is not news that Heda should ever hear from strangers.
He should have told her - that he regrets - but the time for that is past. Best rid Loess of these chaotic interlopers and then deal with the potential repercussions of insubordination (and of secret keeping).
"Go. Tend to your kingdom before the fey take that one from you as well."
Ivar side steps questions and seeks to control the conversation, tries to steer it away from the Queen. This is interesting to the red eyed wraith as she ruled these lands. So why was he speaking for her? Why was he so protective of a Queen that fails to offer him the same protection… The land the same protection? He smells weakness in them all. The boy, the Queen, the kingdom.
The Queen’s Guard tries to shoo them off but he will find they don’t run like rabbits, they aren’t prey. “I don’t take orders from peasants, boy.” He snarls softly, a dangerous glint in the iris’s of red. His amusement fading as the reality of the situation comes to fruition. The boy barks again, failing to have bite. However his little retort (funny how he knows so much of how Taiga fell) gives him something to feed on. “And if it does, there’s always another to replace it. One begging to be plucked.” His ruby gaze drifts along Loess, his meaning perfectly clear. He can work from anywhere. With anything. He comes from a simpler time, he remembers old lives. The Reckoning had thought it wiped the board clean. It had only made things more complicated, made them anxious to hold on to dirt and soil that had never mattered to begin with. What had mattered had sunk beneath the Sea years ago, when the original lands had been lost.
“You should be pleased we decided to grace you with our presence. I think this must be the most action you’ve gotten in years.” A pause, his eyes glittering past the annoying presence of the fool to the submissive Queen behind him. “I think we should spend more time together dear girl, show you what it’s really like to rule.” Stepping into Ivar’s space, encroaching on him as he had dared to do in return. “For starters I would show you how to put your subjects in line.” With extended neck his muzzle comes dangerously close to Ivar’s, the glittering of ruby iris’s beneath his tangled forelock daring him, seducing him, to try him. Gryffen wore a coat of many colors, which one would suit this young stallion best?
What would happen, he wonders, if he allowed his magic to pluck the secret desire that’s harbored in Ivar’s heart. Would the illusion of the wide eyed winged mare behind him cover his own features or would it be someone (something) else entirely? He waits with bated breath, anticipation on his tongue, as he waits for just a mere twitch in his direction. Give me a reason to uncover your secrets Ivar…..
Gryffen
(Going ahead and posting to keep the thread alive lol)
09-30-2017, 09:00 AM (This post was last modified: 09-30-2017, 10:38 AM by Heda.)
Heda
She remains silent, a loss for words as the picture becomes so clear to her now. These people, these monster had killed her father, killed her memories, her childhood, her roots. They were foes walking dangerously close to her safe haven. Breaking the laws that she promised to her people, no malice, no blood will be shed as long as she rules, Loess will remain a safe haven for those who need it most. Her gaze flickers watching as they continue to rant, taking a trial to pick at her insides, but really they were scratching the surface.
She watches as Ivar, her prince charming snaps at them. She hadn't seen him like this, relentless in his effort to shoo them off. But the pale thing, their ring leader stood still. As if her lover's words were nothing, and with little to no consent the red eyed creature stepped forward to teach her how to rule-control her subjects. Immediately her heart thunders in her chest in distress, and with a hesitant step and loud voice she snaps, "ENOUGH!". But before her words seem to reach the alabaster stag, she could sense something, something magic in the works.
Having enough Heda proceeds to her last resort to halt the Stallion in his actions, snatching up fear, she gradually plucks Gryffen's strings, fear beginning to engulf him, her force growing stronger by the second. she wanted to see what made him tick, the rise in his heart rate, and the sullen shock of his own hair standing on end. Stepping in front of her love, her gaze lifted in anger and frustration towards all of them. "I do not need your help." She states, fiery embers of rage flicker off of her. Her mind still playing at Gryffen's fear in a rather relentless manner. "So, I will as this again. What do YOU want?" She speaks the last statement slowly, like talking to a child, emphasizing syllables, hoping thatbthis time they would understand what she was asking, for perhaps a "how can I help you?" wasn't too clear to these dim minded creatures.
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
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@[Gryffen]
Sorry That I'm so lame, I'm fostering two puppies plus I have my naughty kitten and dog reeking havoc the entire week, so I didn't have much time to get a post in xD
She's mad. So she did a thing. Anyways Jeje, it should be a fear that grows gradually (So she isn't actually forcing it onto him, cause if she did force it onto him it would be immediate deepest darkest fears kind of thing) Statrting out with a small mediocre nightmare, and into his deepest darkest fears as the climax. She ends toiling with his fears when she asks "What do you want?" cause it isn't too clear.
”Is that all you’ve got?” she says with a drawl, her dreary eye roaming between the two –
It is all but a snarl now, the wolf that lay beneath the surface of black and indigo rousing with delight – it yearned to lunge at her, to stifle her saccharine pitch (dreadful tone of voice – feigning a sweetness that is not that, though she had always preferred the bitter, metallic copper to sugar). She is focused upon Gryffen, and she can feel the remnants of her manipulative magic seeping through him.
Oh, if she only knew what she was attempting to do to Gryffen, she might laugh, she might cackle at the sheer absurdity of it. He does not fear anything. Furthermore, to use fear – the most powerful emotion of all – above anger, far beyond joy – it does not cause one to cower; it is a motivator. Fight or flight – and oh how she longs to show the Queen fear, to spill her sordid, filthy blood to the dry but supple ground below, to have her trembling beneath her and begging for a life she would never let her keep –
”I’ve skinned those with sharper wit than the two of you combined. We want your kingdom. We want you, bending at the knee, begging for protection – for forgiveness. I want your blood.” She murmurs, a darkness seeping into her voice as her gaze is steadied upon Heda as the sharpened line of her carnivorous teeth are revealed, bared between each arsenic-laced word – ”Your blood, but that is not what he desires most – but when he has tired of you, and tired of your pathetic little kingdom, I will take your throat between my teeth and I will tear it out myself.”
No permission is given to manipulate her emotions or her mental capacity until discussed privately due to the powerplay above. Physical attack, of course, is fine and will be met with enthusiasm.
Please feel free to PM me if you'd like to run something by me; I'm happy to discuss!
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
“You’re here for the same thing, then?” Ivar asks, his brown eyes leaving the blue mare and white stallion. He looks at the red mare and the slim lavender filly, meeting their gaze squarely. They might have come with Thana and Gryffen, but they’ve been curiously silent in the conversation that has ensued.
Is their presence here only a coincidence, an unlucky meeting at an unfortunate time? The red mare is closer than the filly, but not yet near enough that she poses an immediate threat to Heda. The four horses do not quite appear as a unified front, but it’s always best to know exactly what type of predicament you’re in.
“To take the kingdom? To kill us?”
He might have kept their gaze, pressed nonverbally for an answer, but Gryffen is now far too close. Heda’s voice is muted to his left, an unfamiliar anger in her sweet voice. “I do not need your help” she says, and she might be rebuffing Gryffen’s offer or reprimanding Ivar. If it is the latter, Ivar is beyond caring. He can feel the heat of Gryffen’s breath against his own, and while he is not certain what magics (for he must have some intangible gift or be a raving lunatic to be this bold. Possibly both?) the cremello stallion possesses, he is utterly certain of his own strength and how it measures up against the small, red-eyed stallion.
Half his heritage would prefer water to do the work for him, but all of it knows that he doesn’t need it. Brutality and violence are not well-honed skills for the smokey black stallion, but that does not mean he might not excel at them. He’s never had a reason to try them out, after all. The way Thana speaks to Heda though, that is enough to make the two seem suddenly appealing.
“You can’t have those things,” Ivar tells sharp toothed mare, his tone reminiscent of a parent letting their child know that they’ve listed unreasonable demands. “So you can either leave without what you came for, or I will help you leave.” There is nothing in her snarl that suggests she knows she is prey, but then again, a shark never considers itself prey either, not until it is digesting in the belly of an even larger shark.
Perhaps Thana has only ever threatened minnows before.
He has not forgotten Gryffen and his offer to show Heda how to keep her subjects in line. Whatever it is that makes the wraith bold must be powerful, but what he might become were he to use it is a mystery even to Ivar. Would he be a drowned girl? A soft-eyed pegasus like the one beside him? Or would he appear as a match to the instinct that thrums through Ivar’s veins? A low-slung, powerful body best suited for a life beneath the surface? If Gryffen were to touch him and find out (or were Thana to lunge for the jugular she had just been eyeing) their contact would likely come with a sudden, inexplicable, and overwhelming desire to leave.
“Choose. Now.” He has clearly given up on being subservient; Heda might rule here, but she is also small, soft, and vulnerable.
![[Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/07886fb6-93e3-433a-98d3-b27bd42023e6/dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147d99a.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzA3ODg2ZmI2LTkzZTMtNDMzYS05OGQzLWIyN2JkNDIwMjNlNlwvZGM5YjVwZC1kYTIyNGY5Yi00MDYyLTRhYzgtOTI0Zi00ZGQyNjE0N2Q5OWEuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.geTcHHU6VYVUl2A4eZOJJP7O2w_nw1yix1Y8jmwEofM)
