"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
02-15-2019, 04:48 PM (This post was last modified: 02-16-2019, 06:22 PM by Caelestra.)
Caelestra
The mare's time away from Loess had been quite insightful, her meeting with Clayton and her child enlightening and uplifting, giving her the will to return to Loess, to give aid to those who needed it, unable to keep her power of healing to herself.
The mare has no time for nerves as she exits the plains of the field, her body moving in an elongated trot, travelling across the terrain in a quick manner, in a hurry to fulfil her needs, give to those who needed it.
She is not far either, in no time the mare would be speaking with Castile, possibly with his advisor also if she was to show up.
The black mare enters Loess with a grin, today she is quite positive, a rather unusual appearance when in her equine form.
Today the mare is ready to initiate her mission, a plan developed in her mind in order to calm the rowdy nature of the newly kinged Loess, a kingdom that was now declaring war on others, kidnapping healers in order to provide for their own people.
While on the front it sounded like quite a noble cause, when scraping under the surface the reality of it was rather sinister, but the mare believed she could fix it, or at least aid in doing so.
The black mare now walks through the plethora of flora, a comfortable stride decorating her stature as she walks, a smile aimed at everyone she passes. Her breathing slows for a minute, her body running through everything she had been thinking of, ready to turn around and flee, but it had to be done if she was to be satisfied.
The mare exhales deeply as she manoeuvres across the green-rocky terrain, visibly nervous for the moment, her eyes observing everything and everyone she passed, her coal-black skin shivering ever so slightly as she halts in the centre of where everyone seemed to gather.
The mare steadies her breathing as she moves around uncomfortably, her smile quickly disappearing from her face, seemingly almost lost as she searches for a comfortable position.
The mare inhales deeply, her lungs preparing to speak, her muzzle opening to speak once she had the confidence to do so "Castile" she calls, her tone firm, balancing in a friendly yet harsh manner.
The mare cannot see Castile yet, but she knows that if she calls out his name, perhaps his advisor would already be there "This is not the way we should be doing this" she starts, a demanding tone reaching out from her throat, silenced by the closing of her muzzle, holding the pause in a relaxed manner "There are other ways to heal all of these people, we do not need to capture healers" she adds simply, stating her viewpoint on the situation, even if her voice wasn't particularly important Clayton had inspired her to do more "I as a healer can help, I do not mind if I am to be stuck here, I can and will help" she states with a firmer grip on her words, her brain is already persuaded into following through with her plan.
Her body stretches now as she cools off, a lot more relaxed than before "Gaining healers in this way will cause more damage than can be healed, something that is most definitely not needed in our current situation" she may still be new, but it didn't take long for her to realise the damage that was being created.
The black mare pauses once again, looking around her, a feeling of insecurity already creeping in, strangling her as she speaks. An empowering surge that pulsates through her body is what allows her to continue "I can give you my promise that I will stay, be bound to Loess if it means that I can help those who need it, there does not need to be more suffering than there already is"she could finally exhale, all of her pent up emotions uplifted from her heavy carcass, her body almost swaying as the breeze carried the salty spring water closer, her body ready to transform into her bear form from her sheer will to flee, but for now she stood her ground.
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Listening. Watching.
It’s what he does – a constant rotation as his eyes rove across Loess from different vantage points. There have been days that he has curled on a ledge, draconic in every way, and observed the life that roamed and sprouted across the foothills. Admittedly, he has also been finding tunnels in the mountains that kiss between Loess and Hyaline. A dragon’s roost. A nest. A place for his family as they expand and nestle into the kingdom. It’s the least he could do.
Coincidentally, he is curled on the ledge, his neck arched around and his eyes shut in a light sleep, when he hears his name carried on a summer gale. A low rumble resonates through his body and trembles the cliffside as he stirs. The voice, although unfamiliar, carries an air of purpose that brings him to his feet. He isn’t rushed. He stretches and scrapes his talons across the rocks, his jaws yawning open tiredly. Only after blinking away the haziness of his exhaustion does Castile shift his body and address the woman. By the time he has reached her – after a brief glide from his perch – she is squaring herself to face him with a stern expression painted across her face.
”A bold statement,” he growls deeply as his eyes trace across her intensely. He listens to her, however, and considers her offers, but finds himself shrugging. ”We have healers, but they aren’t enough. You won’t be enough. It requires magic. It requires something greater than a mere healer can provide.” He has tasted the temporary relief that a simple healer can give, but the symptoms always returned. It was so delectable, so sweet, at first. Castile was optimistic that the infection was removed, but days later, his cough returned. It rattled him. A week after that, blood dribbled from his nostrils.
Tiphon, a healing angel, was not even enough.
The iron tang of blood settles on his tongue. It’s a bitter taste in this moment as she protests what Vulgaris began. Is it his own blood he tastes, or that of his most recent kill? Castile’s lip curls and his eyes narrow on her. ”You’re funny if you think you can boss your own king,” he scolds her with a furrowed brow until grasping onto her final offer. A smug grin abruptly arises and tips up the corners of his mouth. ”Consider yourself stuck in Loess then. You have a job to do.” And it will never end, he muses. The victims of the plague – himself included – requires a rare power to dissolve the infection in their blood. He wants so bad to find it, to provide it to those within these mountainous walls, but thus far it has been futile. One day, they will find a healer to cure them all.
The mare's body stands tense as Castile comes into view, her body freezing in place as her eyes observed him, it felt like even her blood had stopped circulating around her body, too afraid to move.
Caelestra only allows her ears to move, turning to face the male, his voice resonating in her ears as she allows her body to ease up. She isn't particularly surprised by his reply, her eyes narrowing as his words reach her, her muzzle tense, throat aching as she yearns to speak up.
"I may not be enough, but it is still something. All the healers here make up at least, something. The plague will be healed in time, if additional needs need to be satisfied then there are peaceful ways of doing so" her voice remains stern, her eyes solely focused on Castile.
Of course, remaining peaceful isn't always easy, the mare admires what Kagerus and Solace have created, somehow always remaining in harmony, at least from what she had heard of the kingdom.
The mare doesn't focus on her thoughts for too long, the male is already in speech, his words lurking toward her with a worrying tone that entered her body, tearing up her confidence in a vicious manner.
The black mare remains in place, she allows him to finish speaking, not like she had a choice anyway, his grin forcing her to remain stuck in place.
Her naive way of doing things had rendered her stuck in Loess, which wasn't the end of the world, she could at least stay and help those who needed it, but the mare wasn't quite done yet.
"I don't tend to command anyone, really" her head regains its posture, her stern expression returning to face the dragon, a bear-like growl resonating inside her lungs "But I cannot stand here and watch this unfold. I will not watch the residents of Loess suffer like this" her eyes are painted with fury, a lividity spiralling inside her stomach, causing her to take a step forward.
The mare's body begged her to shift into her bear form, almost shaking now as he looks around herself wondering if she had caused too big of a commotion.
She had seen this before, perhaps not on this scale, but it still terrified her to see it unfold all over again.
"That is fine" her voice has abandoned all of its equine attributes, her body unable to resist the sweet taste of flesh as it floods her mouth, her hooves feeling more like claws at this point as they dig into the ground, refraining from shifting into her bear form.
"I will be glad to fulfil my job" she moves forward, almost near enough to touch Castile, her body forcing her to halt in front of him.
"Trust me"
A grin spreads across her face, her body now able to loosen for a moment as she stays uncomfortably close to the dragon, her body creating a desire for her to return to her carnivorous state, something she would have to satisfy quite soon.
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
The tension in her muscles is nearly tangible. Castile can almost feel the rigidity radiating from her body into the small space between them. That’s what he wants, what he craves, and there is no suppressing the grin that pinches the edges of his mouth. She, this stranger, stands up to him impressively, but she is weighing the options and deciding where – and how strongly – she stands.
(Break her)
The reptilian hiss echoes through his mind, willing him to make her bend beneath his own will, but Castile remains unmoving for the moment except for the wandering of his eyes as they drink her in, again and again. ”Oh yes,” he agrees finally, ”Yes, each of the healers of course play their own part. I like having them all here, at the ready to be used for their skill.” He has tasted the reprieve they offer, and it’s addictive. To breathe clearly again and to not experience such a detrimental fatigue is exhilarating; it made his head swim the first time he experienced it. From that moment, Castile decided he needed more, and endless access, of it. ”What fun is there in being so peaceful?” Although not a warmonger, he rather enjoys the trickle of chaos every so often, just enough to have others at the edge of their seats in anticipation.
And she, dear Caelestra, is providing him that little drop of unsettlement that bristles down his body excitedly.
She steps forward in defiance, and his eyes brighten daringly. He matches her, taking a step closer as well with a growl that trembles the air between their faces. An agreement is met as she accepts her role comfortably, but Castile doesn’t dismiss her so soon. His tongue slips out and glides predatorially across his lips, as though there is residual blood still caked from his previous hunt. ”Touch me,” he demands coolly, ”I’ll be your first.” When he breathes, the air is hot and reeks of fire and brimstone. ”Heal me,” because it’s his new-found addiction.
02-25-2019, 04:34 PM (This post was last modified: 02-25-2019, 04:56 PM by Caelestra.)
Caelestra
There is sudden violence that screams inside the mare that had been previously been unheard of, an echo demanding freedom, violently ramming against the linings of the inside of her body, her carnivorous state calling to her.
The peace within her mental state begins to dwindle as the dragon begins to speak, his torturous whisper arriving at her cold ears, almost blocking out the sound now, a vigorous attempt to ignore all that he said. But it was not possible, she would not be able to shy away from the situation, cowering behind another like an infant, she had to rely on herself to get her point across.
”What fun is there in being so peaceful?” his confrontation of words arriving at her base, her stature almost failing to balance.
For a moment the mare is unable to answer, the feeling of hundreds of eyes suddenly pouring over her, confidence now hanging by a thread.
But she had not come here just to fail, she wouldn't allow herself to do so, not even the thought of failure crossing her concentrated stance.
The onyx-coloured mare remains strong, her frame held high as she takes another step forward, this time a raspy growl emerges from her throat, a different kind of fire ready to escape, the mare opens her muzzle to speak, the soft corners of her lips parting to reveal a growling bear-like voice, finally escaping, rushing out into the world to fill her with hope "Quite possibly the feeling of hope, prosperity, even joy. That is what is so fun about being peaceful, no one needs to die" she continues, her carnivorous voice now taking over the controls, demanding the right of speech, forcing its way through the thick smoky air "War will only bring you suffering, peace will allow you to live on, give your people what they need, give them a life they deserve" she halts, her voice almost returning to its previous state, a cooler and now reserved composure taking back the control.
The dragon's eyes stare into her own in a demanding manner, his forward movement feeling almost as if he was right next to her now, his snake-like tongue slithering across the expanse of his muzzle, he forces a demand upon her, her eyes lighting up with sudden surprise.
Her legs feel hot and rather weak as he continues to speak, heal me, he speaks, the air hot and almost metallic in scent. The mare almost returns to the moment she began her hibernation, a recollection of memories, fire, returning to her mind.
Caelestra suddenly feels heavy, the control of her limbs frozen, her body unable to resist the movement toward him, a whisper emerging from her soulless body.
"Unable to ask nicely now, are we?" she smiles, her body taking a step back as it lights up, a fuzzy growth appearing underneath her, spreading down toward her legs as light escapes her body.
Her limbs are gently entranced into the feeling of weightlessness as her body transforms into its carnivorous state, her body now back to where it was, but this time with more power, a raging river of confidence inside her.
Her grin spreads now, her personality taking control of her body "I won't make it that easy for you, I hope you realise that" she smiles devilishly, a thunderous cry running rampant as she stands her ground, her bloodthirsty eyes focused on the dragon, her soul almost flying, a joyous feeling to bask in for the moment.
@[Castile] Feel free to give her a good ol' smackin'
03-04-2019, 10:35 AM (This post was last modified: 04-05-2019, 08:33 AM by Castile.)
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Castile’s hooded eyes dare her to make a move, to oppose him. Caelestra is steadfast, and although she hesitates briefly under the intensity of his stare, her composure quickly returns. Her response pushes back against him. It defies him and is supported by her step closer and a growl that rattles the length of her throat. It trembles the space between them, but still Castile doesn’t fold – he never will.
Sunlight flashes across his face and ignites his eyes as they bore into her, knives cutting deeper than her skin.
”That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmurs as amusement quivers the corners of his mouth, not at all threatened by her and the path she seeks. ”If that’s the life you want, then you can go to Hyaline or the Silver Cove. The peaceful Caretakers may even take you into their bed for a threesome with the ideas you have.” He laughs then, but its coarse against her ears, clawing against her eardrums as he turns to the side. A slow, predatory circle winds around her, but only once before Castile pauses again, scrutinizing her. ”I never said anyone would die, but I suppose I can make a special arrangement for you.” He has never been cruel, but the potential lies beneath his surface, roiling with his increasing agitation. ”No one has died, and no one has been injured,” he inches close enough to touch her, to breathe in a lungful of her scent, ”so tell me, why do you feel the need to do this?”
But she answers not with words, but with physicality.
A brow lifts as he watches her entire body contort and sprout a thick coat of hair. Claws take the place of her hooves and her voice rumbles in a deep, predatory growl as she affirms the difficulty of his request. Arrogance roots Castile in place. He doesn’t flinch as saliva drips from her jowls or as he stares at her canines. In fact, he grins. ”Of course not. That would be too boring,” he pauses but in doing so, black tendrils of smoke coil from his nostrils, ”but you will regret your decision nonetheless.” His own voice transitions into something primal, precarious.
His single step back isn’t enough, but Caelestra will move – she will accommodate his mass – as his own body expands and shifts. It has become fluid, a second nature. Rigid scales surface as spines protrude down the length of his back. His body elongates unnaturally, and within seconds a dragon is in front of her, dwarfing her. His wings fan out and his serpentine neck arches. A bellowing roar – one that can be heard for miles – rips from his throat as it cuts through the air, punctuated by a jet of flame.
When he looks down at her, his slit pupils narrow. His lips curl into a snarl.
She wanted to challenge him, to standoff, and she succeeded.
Castile’s long, muscular tail lifts, hovering above the ground. Another growl trembles his body, and it’s felt through the ground. Nearby pebbles rattle underneath him. The earth groans as he takes a step, his immense body dwarfing the bear. He could break her, destroy her, but he admires her tenacity.
He decides on a smaller punishment for her disobedience.
A single paw elevates and swats against her. There’s enough force to pommel her aside, but not fracture her bones – not yet. He is prepared, however, to continue - to force her will to crumble beneath him if that’s what it requires – if that’s what she wants. His head snakes out to follow her and takes pause mere feet away so that she is staring down the length of his rigid face, to see the spines and sharp ridges, to see the precarious hunger in his mismatched eyes. His jagged teeth catch the sunlight, but they aren’t perfectly white. No, there is a faint burgundy stain from previous kills staring back at her.
Another growl. Another threat.
”No,” his hisses, his breath reeking of fire and brimstone, ”I won’t ask nicely. I am your King.”
Caelestra's body is now covered in fur, a drooling mass escaping from her jaws as Castile stays hooded over her, his presence creating a vile distortion of hopelessness, the female stands undisturbed for the moment even though her insides are slowly turning rotten.
The male's confidence stands untroubled, not really surprising when you are a literal dragon.
For the moment, anything the male says passes right over her head, her posture remaining unshaken, her mind filtering out anything that came from the dragon, she only turns when a mass of noise meets her ears, a puff of smoke violently decorating the ground below them, her eyes glazed with fear as she stares at the dragon.
There aren't many moments where Cael fears for her life, she is usually quite confident and compliant, but today the fear resides right in her heart, her body now trembling in terror.
His growl easily induces a tremor in the ground, pebbles and small rocks rattling in discomfort around her as his large stature heaves above her, casting a shadow over anything that was below her, dwarfing over her entirely.
The female stares at him, his large claw now barreling toward her side as her eyes close tightly, her body now soaring to the side, her eyes remaining closed for a moment.
The female had thought she was going to die, a fear that was rather terrifying, she wasn't ready for her life to come to an end quite yet, there were still many things to achieve.
Her eyes slowly slide open, revealing the dragon's face right in front of her, his eyes piercing her own as her body trembles once more, this time with aching pain on her sides. His sharp teeth are stained with blood, an almost reflecting image of what could be.
The dragon looks hungry, a lustful look in his eyes that she could not match, a sort of agony even she could not relate to.
The female stands with a tremble in her furry legs, a grin appearing on her maw as the dragon begins to speak again, a hot coal-like smell drifting toward her, his voice crisp and violent as he speaks.
"I thought a king never had to state his position" even though she may not be able to match a dragon, she can still slither toward him with her own words, digging at him slowly, and what she stated may even have some truth to it, a king cannot be mistaken as anything else, to have to state his position must mean it is rather, insecure.
She knew probably wouldn't win today, but that wouldn't deter her from achieving her goal.
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
It could so easily end right now, with the aches plaguing her body and hunger stabbing his own. His slit pupils bore into her and read her thermal geography. Blood is pulsing through her fearfully, and Castile so badly wants to laugh between her labored breaths. He is dangerous, he advised the others, but so few listen. They want to see him, to prod the beast that lurks beneath his bones and in his soul. Caelestra challenged him, and he was more than willing to comply. All it takes is her submission, for her to bend to him and acquiesce to his demands. The temporary effects of healing have become an addiction that he craves. Even as the slightest taste of fever rises in his throat, Castile beckons for the aid of Tiphon. Now though, he forces his request on Caelestra.
He would be lying if he said he was unsurprised by her reaction. Even as her body quakes with pain, she defies him. A grin wrinkles the edges of her mouth, and he knows then that she still won’t submit to him. Standing above her, his serpent-like neck arched and his jagged teeth bared, she comments sideways and he responds with a chilling hiss. How appropriate of her to say something that frequents his mind on days he lazily spends basking in the sunlight. Oftentimes, he doesn’t tell others that he is King – they simply know – but she is different. She is seemingly dense, challenging him as she protests for peace. Even under the pressure of pain and loss, Caelestra continues to refuse him. ”Tell me,” his voice trembles through them both, a deep baritone resembling a foreboding growl, ”Do you want to die for a lost cause?” Ideally, he doesn’t want to have more blood on his hands, but he won’t back down; he won’t shy away from his own threats.
They would see him weak then. They would undermine him, doubt him. He, by his own standards, would be unfit.
Castile’s wings fold against his sides, idle while grounded. His talons knead the sand and dry dirt underneath his titanic body, almost in preparation. ”Or perhaps a little reminder that Loess will not be what you want while I am here,” he could maim her, cut into her soft flesh, leave her scarred but at least alive to fulfill her pacifist role elsewhere should she not stay here.
Caelestra cannot hold her form for much longer, for the first time her body longed to return into horse form, a weird sensation that now ran through her bloodstream.
She knew she had failed at what she had sought out to do, the only thing that had mattered to her at the moment was slowly slipping away from her, a dream so wrapped up in itself that it was impossible to unfold, not right now anyway.
The female's body trembles as she falls to the ground, an aired mist of dust collecting around her fallen body.
Slowly, the mare lost all the fur that decorated her body, her claws shaping back into tinted hooves as she transformed into her equine form.
The mare lay still for a couple of minutes, the moment was hers to hold, she did not need to move unless she wanted to. The stillness in her body felt warm, a comforting heave of air passing through her lungs as she stands, her legs still gently trembling.
The mare turns to face Castile, her head rising to meet his eyes as her shoulders tremble, a smile appearing on her dimly lit face "For a lost cause, maybe no. But, I feel that every cause is worth fighting for, even if it does mean you will die" She speaks quietly, a gentle tone replacing the growl that lived in her throat before.
"Perhaps it won't" she adds to what he had said about Loess "But that can always change, and it will" she says confidently, her smile quickly changing into a rather stern expression.
"Do what you must to satisfy your lust, but be careful, not everything burns when touched by fire" she nods as she turns away, a faint limp decorating her stature as she begins to walk away, her legs slowly trailing across the dusty landscape in defeat.
She hadn't managed to do what she had in plan, but she had come out of it with more experience than ever before.
For not she could be satisfied, in her own time, she will be able to bend the future, shape it in the way she desires, make all bad things good again.
"I wish you good luck Castile" she says gently as she turns back to look at the dragon one more time.
![[Image: YDKFjJC]](https://imgur.com/a/YDKFjJC)
