"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
What was it about long quiet mornings that made one restless? It was almost as though time slowly seeped through the cracks, making one crave for noon to come and go. The inching of time was what caused the graying man to start moving through the silent kingdom.
The other evening he had sent word with a friend to find the man named tarnished and invite him to come find him here in his home. He had a needed a friend for so long, and there were the rumors that drew Demian's attention to the stallion with the personality so much like his own.
Now he played the waiting game. Whether the man would come or not was a fifty/fifty chance. But he was willing to guess the gangly boy sent to deliver the invitation, with the fear of god in his eyes would be almost irresistible. Demian always liked making the weak his playthings. And when it came to those like him, he knew they'd see the mark he left in them.
The mark was a calling card. More so than a few sentences telling a location and a few details. It was enough to tell the invited what they needed to know.
So it was the front borders that Demian chose to head towards. Slowly he wound himself through the trees and underbrush of the kingdom's forest until finally he arrived. Though instead of stepping out of the treeline, he chose to remain in the center of the overgrown trail the soft orange glow of his jaguar markings surrounding him in a soft circle of light.
Patience had never been one of his strong suits but today he would force himself to wait patiently to see if the other would accept and show.
He has gone to great lengths to distance himself from his late mother. She isn’t infamous anymore, there is no longer a dragon flying over Beqanna—just birds and the odd pegasus, and he supposes everyone old enough to remember finds the skies now to be quite empty without her. Or they’re grateful, because dragons and all tend to be rather terrifying to the average horse. If there is such a thing as an ‘average’ horse in Beqanna. He never had her ambition, never wanted a throne; he could have stayed on as the Deserts’ heir if he had even the slightest interest, ruled alongside Yael after his father’s passing—perhaps even longer, even after she stepped down and left the dunes and the red rock and all that called them home at his mercy. But alas, probably much to his dead parents’ displeasure, he’d never shown an interest in any of the kingdoms they admired and slaved over.
Interesting, that.
How one little message can change everything.
Tarnished comes quietly, little more than a thick body of fog that gently flits between the trees and glides eerily quick over the ground. It’s gray today, cold; too cold for summer but that’s typical of the kingdom; there’s too many ghosts, too little room to house them all. They’re bitter and like to make their chilling presence felt rather than seen. Or so he likes to think, especially on days like today. After all, he will never forget the Murder Pits.
Mother saw to that.
The shape-shifter knows The One Who Called by his glowing, orange marks, and it isn’t until the fog is some five feet from the strange male before it starts gathering itself together to form a rather large horse. It’s his bones that take shape first, then the organs, and the muscles, and the tissue—Demian is practically given an entire anatomy lesson before Tarnished decides enough is enough and quickly ends the whole process. He cocks his head once the transformation is complete, grinning. “You’re not much of a welcoming party,” Tarnished says. “But I suppose you’ll do.” Rolling his shoulders, he glances around before his golden eyes dart back to Demian’s face. “So what’s this about, eh?”
.tarnished.
vanquish x nocturnal
Even on the way down, even on the way down.
Vanquish x Nocturnal equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity
He had been waiting for what seemed like only a few minutes when the fog came creeping towards him. The cold that followed was what he noticed next. It had more than enough of a bite to it to send a slight shiver through him.
He watched as the fog slivered through the trees and out past the forest line before slowly beginning to gather together in an open spot infront of him. With each passing second it rolled upwards, beginning to form in the shape of a horse.
The little anatomy lesson had him slightly amused and by the time it was done Demian was smirking slightly and a huff of approval exited his nostrils.
For the longest time Demian had found himself attracted to the unusual. Like Tarnished, Demian had been born to a power-hungry mother. She had spent her life creating children with powerful kings of beqanna in order to create heirs to thrones. But it was Demian she had created when she became impatient.
Carnage became Adalind's target and with one try she had gotten exactly what she wanted... A son by who she and most considered the most powerful of them all. His glowing orange jaguar markings and the wings were the obvious traits his father had passed on. But unknown to most Demian's immortality was the underlying trait and it was the one he relied on most. It would give him ample time to be successful in the ways he desired to be.
It had taken years for Demian to find his way into another kingdom. And then of course, he had placed himself within one unbeknownst to most, learning it's ways and learning how to survive on his own. Each crook and cranny was discovered. Each escape route noted. Every source of water, ample food, and shelter memorized.
And then he had gotten bored. He had done everything he could and this is exactly why he had sought out Tarnished. Looking at the man he smiled back, a bit of attitude in his features showing that Demian had a little something up his sleeve. "Well now, that's perfectly fine with me. I never was one for the flash and pazazz of welcoming parties if they aren't for me anyway."
Grinning he shrugs slightly before speaking once more. "I have a idea. A bit of plan you see. And I thought you'd be perfect in helping me as a partner," slowly he took a step forward, moving out of the tree line and out from under the shadows of the forest canopy.
"I'm thinking we should have a bit of fun," he chuckled slightly before looking towards the forest. "I've always had a joy for causing a bit of chaos and I have a feeling that you feel the same as I do." Turning his head back to tarnished he allowed his dark eyes to meet with the other stallion's golden pair. "And I also have the slightest of inklings you're just as bored as I am."
It isn’t often that someone seeks me out personally, my encounters are often—always—by chance; I made the choice long ago to make myself scarce, to hide, to listen, to collect as much information as I could and to store it away until it became useful. My actions were almost always clandestine. I briefly wonder where he learned of me, but then I decide I don’t care much to know; Vanquish was important not so long ago, before he went and got himself killed, and I chalk it up to being the son of a dead king.
An old, forgettable heir, if you will—well, maybe not forgettable enough.
This stallion did send a messenger to fetch me.
And he’s right.
I’m bored, I’m always fucking bored lately.
I twist and bend myself until I break, I take on shape after shape until I’ve been through them all; I’ve killed, I’ll kill again sooner or later. I’ve been the hunter and the hunted and still I’m bored. Isolation can only be so fun for so long before you start to miss everyone else and I’ve been cut off from everyone for so long that, well, a little chaos sounds fun right about now; maybe that’s what I need. Chaos. Something to take my mind off Dominion, something to keep me from thinking about her late at night—something to keep me awake so I don’t dream about Mother and Else and everything that had gone wrong in between.
“A tempting offer, I must admit, but I feel like introductions are in order before we enter into any 'partnerships.'” I shrug, roll my shoulders again; there’s a kink in my back and there’s been one for weeks and I hope like hell it works itself out soon. But anyways. “I suppose you’re already aware, all things considered, but my name is Tarnished—Nish, for short, if you prefer.” I grin, because it’s been a while since I’ve given someone the chance to call me that. Generally, I reserve the nickname for close family and friends. But if we’re going to be ‘partners,’ I decide we’re going to have to be the very best of friends, too. Or everything will go sour and I’ll end up having to eat him.
I don’t like the taste of other horses much.
But details.
“And you are?”
tarnished
vanquish x nocturnal
Even on the way down, even on the way down.
Vanquish x Nocturnal equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity
08-18-2015, 02:19 AM (This post was last modified: 08-18-2015, 11:54 PM by demian.)
we try to sound like someone else.
It was nothing more than a simple understanding amongst the hermits of the world that even they too needed to occasionally crawl out from the shadows and wreak a little havoc. It was times like these that made those moments of fun perfect for those like tarnished and demian. The silence had creeped it's way through the valley, just like the fog that was once the man before him, covering it in an eerie glaze of sorts.
The most activity were the black birds as the swooped from branch to branch within the forest canopy, filling the air with their daysongs. And this was all that could be heard in the moments of silence that rang between the stallions slips of conversation. As introductions are noted, demian finds himself nodding slightly in agreement before speaking quietly. "Mm. Introductions are appropriate yes," He finds himself saying as he smiles slightly. "It's nice to meet you Nish," He says the nickname with a calm manner, as though he's known the man infront of him forever.
And it's quite possible he has. Maybe in a lifetime before this particular one. Already they seemed to calm around eachother, though what is one to expect when there is simply too much in common with the other. Their lives, though they barely knew it were all too similar in so many aspects. And like tarnished, demian rarely found those he could connect with or trust enough to get close to the deepest parts of him.
"I'm Demian," He states simply, a smirk replacing his small smile. Ah yes, he knew this was going to work all too well. He could tell deep inside that they were going to be quite the team. "So. Should we discuss what we should do in order to spice things up in our lives?"
Let the games begin. For the boys are bored and fun is indeed needed.
D E M I A N ( carnage x adalind )
Ooc: I don't know what this is, but okay? He went cray on me. Dont judge :|
