"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
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
He slips away from the water-wolf and his successor politely, mentioning to Circinae that he'd like to catch up with Jah-Lilah before he and Solace head back for the mainland. The gilded stallion is almost fearful to venture too far into Ischia lest he happen upon Ciri ─ he isn't ready for that interaction yet, and despite his outward coldness he knows that the starry-eyed girl deserves more than a detached, blank version of himself.
Amet walks tentatively throw verdant tropical boughs, his hooves sinking into the warm sand with each step. His mind flashes briefly to the Dunes, to the feel of the sand beneath his galloping hooves as he had run for the border with wide eyes and a hammering heart. Ischia feels different. It feels... safer. Warmer. He hopes that Ciri is happy here.
He moves a bit further into the tropical jungle, the winter sun shining through leafy boughs to warm his dulled scaled and gaunt frame. The red wytch comes into view and the Akhal-Teke greets her with a quiet nicker, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up slightly. He knows there is no use in hiding the sadness in his eyes ─ if anyone would be able to see it immediately, it would be the soothsayer. And he owed her more than a conversation full of disinterested comments and small talk.
"Jah-Lilah, this island suits you," he says quietly as he comes to a stop before her, his forehead creased with disquiet, "I wanted to say hi before I bring Solace back to Hyaline."
Breathe it in and breathe it out, pass it on, it's almost out.
The evening finds her nesting, again. The singer hums to herself and is making little changes to her den in the jungle. Her herbs are piled just within reach, some psychedelic, most medicinal. She's gathered feathers and flowers from the local fauna and decorated around her bed of leaves. There has been nothing else in her life she's prepared for more than the birth of her firstborn. The baby is a spunky thing, wild and kicking, even in utero. She daydreams about what the babe will look like, who it will take after. Her mind wanders to the future, to the great things she knows her foal will do. She exhales dreamily, head craned around to nuzzle against her belly, just barely starting to swell. Dark nose is pressed against red fur as she whispers sweet nothings to her everything.
The soft sound of hooves in the sand causes her eyes to snap open, the rest of her standing stone still. The footsteps that approach are not intimidated by sand or by jungle, they don't make a fuss, they are light and well-placed. Suddenly a nicker, and she sees him, @[Amet]. Even if she didn't hear him he sticks out like a sore thumb, all those breathtaking scales on his body, each individual one dipped in something like gold. He truly was a sight to behold, and she understood why any young filly would most certainly get swept up in his allure. The young desert-dweller approaches, and my mare smiles.
His body language is solemn, and she appreciates him not insulting her intelligence by putting up a happy façade on her accord. He wears a grin, but it is sorrowful. She blows and turns to meet him, she can only assume this has something to do with his starry lover. He calls her by her truename, and she laughs. She will never get used to this, but it endears him to her. She bumps noses with him, grunting. "And hello to you Dragon-King! How are you? What brings you to my Wolf's island?" The question is posed with a raised eyebrow, it is a loaded inquiry. His ass better not lie to her, she knows that much. He speaks of the girl, Solace, but Jah-Lilah does not see her. Probably for the best, the mare decides, so the pair may speak freely.
We're so creative, so much more, we're high above but on the floor.
11-05-2017, 10:42 PM (This post was last modified: 11-05-2017, 10:42 PM by Amet.)
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
Seeing the red wytch puts Amet at ease almost instantaneously. She has a safe presence, an easygoing aura that allows him to drop the walls he has thrown up around himself. She has been busy in this den of hers, and the gilded stallion takes a quick moment to survey the trinkets she has collected as she rotates her crimson body to face him. Amet greets her warmly despite his new constant gray cloud, his muzzle bumping hers in return.
Jah-Lilah calls him Dragon-King and he shies away from it humbly, his golden maw tossed skyward as he responds to her inquiry frankly, "I wanted to bring Solace on her first diplomatic ─" he draws the word out, long and tedious, "─ meeting." He pauses for a brief moment, a smile full of excitement but hinted with remorse finding his face. "She will be my successor." He tries to turn the conversation from himself back to her, away from his own wellbeing. It would be a safer conversation that way.
"Enough about me, though, Jah-Lilah..." he lets her name roll off his tongue, unique and warm and calming, "Are you expecting a child?" His amber eyes watch her closely, pleased for the red woman and her lovers. He thinks of the unborn child who would soon be raised by a trio of the best, kindest beings he had ever known. It would be a childhood much the opposite of his own and he sighs gently, happily at the thought.
One day, perhaps, he would introduce the kindness of the world to his own child. But for now, the gilded stallion frowns at the thought, he will need to figure out how to just be enough.
After their brief greeting her steps in to meet her, attempting to venture in and take a look at her den. She cuts him off before he has a chance to enter, the mother hen protective and vigilant as always. "No sir, King or not, don't bring your bad vibes into my space. There'll be none of that here." He relaxes and returns her happy greeting, and she eyes him, lips pursed. A heavy burden is on his shoulders, and she can feel it. His soul pressure is all but crushing. Always with troubles, these equine here. If they spent more time fucking and less time worrying, they'd probably all be fine, she muses internally. He drawls on about the filly, Solace, and his words mean nothing, she knows not of the girl. Her eyebrows raise, genuinely surprised about the news of him stepping down, but she doesn't blame him. Certainly the pressures of ruling a kingdom are problems she doesn't want.
He dodges her question smoothly, asking about her pregnancy, oh he's good. The red mare hasn't told a soul, and as far as she's concerned her lips are sealed. She does give the scaly stallion a coy smile and some side eye as she responds. "Hmm? I don't know. I've been meeting my mates in the moonlight, and CERTAINLY you know how babies are made, Dragon-King?" She drops the name on him again to throw him off, knowing the title is disconcerting to him. She then turns to enter her thicket, casting a look back over her shoulder as she retreats. "Now then, other than stepping down off the throne, what's goin' on with you?"
She clicks her teeth, signaling for him to follow, a noise a mare would use to call her foal. A plan was formulating in that hippy brain of hers. Walking to the far side of her little hollow, she noses through some various things she has stored, continuing their conversation. He thought he could change things up and avoid talking to her? Ha! He tried it. "And don't try to bullshit me. Why are you in this island paradise wearing that mopey look on your face?" Grinning, she peers around her widening belly and butt at him.
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
Jah-Lilah keeps him from her den skillfully as if she had been beating children away from her space for years and he can't help but chuckle warmly at her as he takes a few steps back to avoid souring her private hovel with his own bad joojoo. He smiles sheepishly at the red wytch before telling her of Solace, a small nod accentuating his statement when his companion's expression transforms to one of surprise. The decision had been a heavy one, but the young filly will prove to be a successful leader and, despite his sorrows, the gilded stallion has grown more proud of her each day.
The soothsayer is quick to throw a mischievous glance in his direction, her inquiry slathered in sarcasm, when he coaxes their conversation away from himself and to the red woman. Nevertheless, it still catches the young stallion off guard and it's a nervous chuckle that falls from his maw this time and discomfort that keeps him shifting his weight in the sand. "Ah, well," he sputters quietly under Jah-Lilah's scrutiny. Amet is relieved when she pivots around to move towards the thicket, and even more relieved when the question she throws over her shoulder is not another about the birds and the bees.
"Oh, I won't be stepping down for a while. There are still a few things I'd like to do," he trails off at the thought of everything he needs to discuss with Solace, the allies and friends he will need to inform. Having a task to set his mind on lightens the stallion's spirits, albeit slightly, as he shrugs his thin shoulders to the red woman.
He follows her when called, hooves falling gently behind her as he searches for something (anything) to tell her. Anything that doesn't involve Ciri. But when she swings her head around and traps him under her grinning gaze, his amber eyes drop from hers. The Akhal-Teke shifts his weight uncomfortably again, willing his face to remain neutral and unaffected as his throat tightens and burns. "Can't I just tell you that I haven't been sleeping well?" he asks her, the sadness leaking into his voice.
Amet clenches his jaw suddenly, forcing the pain down, down, down until finally he sighs quietly and slips the words onto the ground, voicing them for the first time since he had watched Ciri turn and walk away. "You were right, Jah. Like I knew you would be. You said that if I didn't tell her, someone else would..." He has hardened again, hiding himself behind that wall just like he had learned to do as a child, "I told Ciri that I loved her. And she said it back. But... she has the same feelings for Castile, a childhood fri ─ someone I knew from when I was younger," he corrects coldly, shrugging his gilded shoulders as if he can shrug away the pain. Even he knows it's not that menial.
He knows Jah-Lilah will understand ─ he had told her, had confessed his worries that not wanting to share Ciri's affections meant that he was selfish. "I wish I could be okay with it. But I'm not. I don't want half of her heart," his voice has dropped to a whisper, and yet he still clings to his emptiness. "Sorry. I didn't mean to find you just to complain," he mumbles, his amber eyes finding anything but the red wytch, hoping that Ciri is not around to hear or see him.
11-10-2017, 04:00 PM (This post was last modified: 11-10-2017, 04:07 PM by Jah-Lilah.)
Jah-Lilah
someday, we will foresee obstacles
The deeper you stick it in your vein, the deeper the thoughts, there's no more pain.
The Dragon-King is being evasive, squirrely, and just generally playing games. Her patience is wearing thin. He discusses his future plans of stepping down, and dances around the topic they both are hinting at. He is young though, she reminds herself, and so she does the steps with him, carrying with her no ire. She listens attentively while she flits around her grove, until finally he begins to get to the topic at hand. When she inquires upon his baby-making skills, he blushes and shuffles his feet, apparently looking for something on the ground. Jah-Lilah ain't buying it. She chuckles to herself, shaking her head. The red mare will let this slide, she would actually prefer to not know about the gritty details of his sex life, although had they met before her pledging herself to her mates it would be quite a different story. A nasty thing, my Jah-Lilah is.
She pushes him again, inquiring about what he's got going on inside, and he attempts to dodge her questions. He blabbers some nonsense about not sleeping well, and she can't help but to burst into laughter, neither one of them would believe that excuse, and surely he knows that. Shaking herself, she grabs what she's been looking for, a few shoots of peyote, a pound of mushrooms. She brings it forth, dropping it at their hooves like a dog. The conversation progresses, so she waits to give him instructions on their next moves.
Suddenly his mouth opens and words come spilling out like a waterfall, he's confessing his sins. Jah is not here to judge, just here to open his mind. In a voice tinged with regret, he tells her about his love for the jaded mare, Ciri. He speaks about a male Jah-Lilah doesn't know, Castile, and the war for his lover's heart. Her face dressed in concern, she hears him, takes it in, processes. Everything is made clearer, and she begins to wonder if he even knows that the girl is carrying his child within her. Secrets whispered to Jah-Lilah by the Earth-Mother, my girl keeps her trap shut for now, allowing him to spill the beans and lighten his load. The red wytch is strong, she can share the burden with the young king. He's a grown man now, made adult by the trials he's going through, he's got to work it out, got to know what he will and won't stand for. She is not offended by his inability to share the girl's love, not everyone is made for the pansexual life Jah has chosen, and she knows this. She is unable to be satiated by one, and so she chose two, one of each sex, already soul tied. The three of them were one spirit, and their gift was a rare one. Her life was a difficult choice, one not for the faint of heart, one not for the beautiful gilded Dragon-King. Good for him.
@[Amet] makes unneccesary apologies for his words and actions, and she nods and embraces him in a motherly manner. Glancing down at the variety of psychedelics on the ground, she bumps him and asks a new question. "Dragon-King, will you take a new journey with me?" Pushing the plants to him, she motions for him to chose one and ingest. He is in safe hands, the old medicine woman will guide him in his journey for spiritual awakening and to seek the answers to the questions burning in his soul.
I'm in heaven, I'm a goddess, I'm everywhere, I feel so hot.
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
He knows he cannot fool her. Jah-Lilah knows when he is lying, so there is no sense in telling her that his lack of sleep is the true culprit behind his sour demeanor. He explains his story easily enough, concentrating more on the shape of the words than on the emotions that threaten to rise and wash over him. He will not have that. He is done being upset about it now. The only thing left to do is remain flat and emotionless until it has all passed and he has forgotten the heartache. Perhaps slightly illogical, but frankly the young stallion doesn't care.
He watches as the red soothsayer scurries about her den, gathering plants that he has never seen nor tasted before. He's curious, amber eyes following her closely to see if she is making another sort of paste, like the one she had created for Ciri the night she had surfaced from the Underneath. The memory draws a sigh from Amet's lips but he does not linger on the thought of it, instead turning the entirety of his attention back to the red wytch, who had been oddly quiet since his confession.
He wonders, then ─ had Ciri told her about Castile?
She had meant to come to Ischia. It is only logical that the starry-eyed mare had sought out the soothsayer who'd helped bring her back from near death. He makes to ask Jah-Lilah, but the mare has gathered her items and placed them upon the earth before him and Amet turns his amber eyes towards each pile suspiciously. "A journey?" he inquires hesitantly, though the red mare's nudge does help to comfort him. He snakes his gilded neck out, nostrils flaring to inspect the shoots and the mushrooms, curious what remedy they will offer him.
He lips at the shoots, off put briefly by their bitterness before he draws them into his mouth and chews them quickly, forcing the foliage down his throat. He watches Jah-Lilah nervously, his soft muzzle reaching for her. "Jah," he whispers with a shaky voice, "How will this heeeellllppppp?" His pupils have dilated, time has slowed. He can see only the red wytch. His guiding light. "Jaaaaahhh," his words creep slowly from his maw, "Jaaahhh..."
His words slowly fade to silence, and then he succumbs.
11-11-2017, 09:18 PM (This post was last modified: 11-11-2017, 09:19 PM by Modicum Mortem.)
Every move you make, every breath you take, I'll be watching you...
Watching the flame mare had proved to be more interesting than expected. He learned of the grove she slept in, the triangle-relationship she had with the leader of Ischia and another he had yet to see. She had many ties to many different horses, places, things, and as he stalks her, he finally sees what she had meant about a "Dragon-King."
He is golden and bronze, completely scaled. Amber orbs peer out from hooded lids. Mortem stays low, as he so often does while he is hunting. His body is covered in mud today, which proves to hide his scent better than the sand. The clown doesn't mind getting a little dirty, especially when it'll help advance his place with Gryffen.
They talk of Ciri, daughter-of-the-stars. Something about a polyamorous relationship gone wrong. He can only assume it's not for everybody, and they move on. It doesn't seem to be going much of anywhere, but Mortem is forced to stay, just in case.
And then it happens. She brings to him some peyote and peculiar mushrooms. As the dragon-king swallows it, he begins to fold to her every desire. He is confessing everything to her, and the wytch just stands there, listening. Modicum Mortem's eyes widen; what a delicious thing she has just shown him...
Modicum Mortem
They all float…
ooc: again, don't mind him. just doing some stalking for Gryffen.
It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive, if you don't have it you're on the other side.
The mare watches eagerly as the young king bends down and sniffs her offerings. He is unsure, he is insecure, but he trusts her. Either that or he's a bit on the daft side this afternoon. He chooses the bitter peyote, a heavier high than the playful mushrooms, but one of her favorites. Hopefully this young mutherfucker is ready to get his mind opened. He begins to fade out, and there is Jah-Lilah, guiding him, leading him. She begins to speak, to take hold of him, and suddenly there is music all around. Her one voice sounds like four, and suddenly they're off, on a whole 'nother plane of existence.
Picture yourself on a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
She is leading him, half walking, half floating through the air. Her mane and tail stream behind her, seeming to go on forever. The flawless landscape of Ischia begins to change, to warp in front of their very eyes. Jah-Lilah is delighted and giggles accordingly, grabbing hold of @[Amet] suddenly and pulling him to her.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes
And she's gone.
The red wytch bounds out carelessly towards the sea, the ocean is changing as well. Just when it seems Jah-Lilah will hit the surf and sink into the water, another change. She's leading him to the water, she hovers and prances, always seeming to be out of focus. Rainbow-colored fish plunge into the air, flying right beside her. She flounces back toward the Dragon-King, nipping at his ears as she dives overhead.
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain,
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high.
From the ocean itself the very flowers that Jah-Lilah sings of seem to sprout, seeds growing, blooming. The sunflowers grow tall, taller than anything in Beqanna, the petals threaten to block out the sun. My mare nips at the scaly hide below her, laughing still. She is so calm, so collected, as if she is the ruler of this word. She kisses a particularly lovely triggerfish as she leads the way out deeper, deeper, deeper into the shark-infested waters.
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore,
Waiting to take you away.
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds
And you're gone.
The mare sinks herself headfirst into the water, then emerges, bone-dry. The texture of the land seems to have changed though, it's as if they're living in a water color painting. Jah-Lilah calls to the boy, beckoning him closer as she drags a clam from the sea. The thing is bigger than she'll even be, but so small at the same time. It belches forth a pearl, shiny, round, egg-like. Jah-Lilah laughs like a maniac and then proceeds to eat the creation. She is still calm, still tranquil, still seemingly serene, she's just devouring something's baby...ok...no big deal...
Picture yourself on a train in a station,
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties.
Suddenly someone is there at the turn-style,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
From her belly a hole begins to form. Jah-Lilah is in technicolor now, bright, bold, obnoxious. A baby begins to emerge. Not a colt though, a little panther cub. My mare doesn't cry out, doesn't squirm, doesn't even seem to notice. The things scratches and claws it's way out, and she begins to lick and clean it as if it's her own, despite the gaping whole showing all of her innards. She whinnies to Amet, motioning for him to come close and meet the babe.
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
Picture yourself on a boat on a river, With tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
It begins with the music ─ so unfamiliar and so beautiful. It surrounds him and he is nearly lost in it but the red wytch pulls him back to her. He wants to stand there, to sway with the feeling of this peculiar rhythm. His hooves feel stuck in the earth and the sand threatens to suck him in but there she is again, the soothsayer with the voice of four. So powerful. So beautiful.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green, Towering over your head. Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes And she's gone.
"Jaaaah-Leeeeeeelaaaaaahhhh," he sings with a syrupy voice as he follows the floating red woman, her tresses never-ending as they wrap lovingly, warmly, around his gleaming golden body. Amet is distracted then by his own scales, his head turned downward to inspect his golden chest. He extends a foreleg out, raising it up so that he may see the plating closer, and when he finally turns his gold-flecked eyes back to Ischia, the scenery has warped and he is lost all over again. "Wherrreeee?" he tries to ask over the music, over the palpable beauty of the red mare and the island backdrop.
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain, Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies. Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers, That grow so incredibly high.
The gilded king tries to follow the crimson mare, wills his legs to move forward towards the surf, but he is cemented in place as he watches his guide's acrobatics. It seems so natural that she could be floating on the water, the sight so vibrant and beautiful despite the way his eyes refuse to focus. Wow, he wants to say, but the word gets stuck in his mouth and all he can do is wait for Jah-Lilah to come back to him, to nip at his shoulder (the feeling ripples across his skin, drawing a shiver through his body) before his legs decide they want to follow her again.
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore, Waiting to take you away. Climb in the back with your head in the clouds And you're gone.
He sinks into the sand again, his narrow legs growing in length until they are uncontrollable and the stallion gets them tangled in themselves. He falls like a tree, bracing himself with his face, and despite the immediate pain that washes through his head, the gilded king laughs and laughs and laughs...
Picture yourself on a train in a station, With plasticine porters with looking glass ties. Suddenly someone is there at the turn-style, A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
Amet's mouth is gritty with sand, but he has somehow stood, somehow found his way closer to the red wytch as she delves into the ocean and returns with an impossible clam. The gilded king is confused, so confused, as she eats the pearl that appears from the maw of the seashell, but his intrigue overpowers his wariness and he dances closer to her as the music continues to play all around. Jah-Lilah's technicolor barrel opens up wide and despite the grotesqueness of it, of the intestines that threaten to spill from her sides, Amet trusts the mare's own calm demeanor and he teeters closer to the miraculous cub, enthralled by its existence here and now. "Beautiferr," he whispers to the mare as he inspects the panther cub, his words contorted as he is suddenly awash with a powerful love for the small furred creature, his dragon-like legs dropping him to the moving sands of Ischia to extend his bloodied muzzle to the impossible thing.
