"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
They walk like a weird, yet well-oiled machine. They are a small group, albeit a strong one. Malfunction leads them, the eldest head of the bunch and possibly the least fucked up. Although the world is a swirl of black, white, and gray and his seizures will strike at random times, he is the only one the rest can rely on. He is the only one to walk with a normal step (the rest limp and hobble and drag their legs). He is the only one to speak normal (the rest don’t speak at all and speak with a wet, slippery way and speak childish, softly). He is the one to lead and provide and protect, because he is the one most capable of doing so.
The four of them slide into the Meadow and sense the eyes on them (the staring, the repulsed looks, the shudders of the skin). But Malfunction holds his head high and the rest of them follow – although Wound is too young to understand the way the staring horses move away from them. Silvery bay coloring adorns all four of their bodies, and their similar body types make their abnormalities look even more so. They are all siblings and it is noticeable from their behavior to their looks to the way they treat one another.
They stop beneath a pair of closely-knit trees. Smear touches his bumpy lips to Wound’s poll and huffs out a warm breath over her ears (a sort of acknowledgement of his love for her, a sort of close admiration as they bundle together). The petite filly sidles close to Malfunction’s side and he allows her to lean against him. The morning spring air is chilly and he supposes her fuzzy newborn hair is doing little to fight the cold. “Mal, we need to get somewhere safe.” Skid’s words are slick with his endless saliva, but they are barely able to understand. The eldest gives a short nod and turns his eyes toward the Meadow. They need to find somewhere outside of the open lands, somewhere beyond the blue and pink mist.
09-05-2016, 11:57 AM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2016, 10:06 AM by Erinys.)
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head.
A mistake is what she was.
She had been born from an abomination—a creature not even from this world. It had been her mother though (strange, adorned in purple armor) in some sort of way that allowed nature to birth her. Her mother had shown nothing towards her when she had been born. It didn't even seem like compassion or love was capable for such a being like her mother. Her mother’s specie had only seemed to want one purpose—more of them.
It had left her there in the pouring rain on that spring morning. She was left with no guidance in this world, not a hand to hold to comfort her in times of need. And she was alone, but did not stop her from living. It perhaps had been her biological nature that kicked in, pushed her to survive, and live through this terrible turmoil.
Erinys—that is what she called herself. It was a name from some story she had heard a mother tell her twin children one day in the meadow. She never knew what it meant truly, but she had liked the sound of it. It rolled off easily and yet had a sense of harshness to the ring of it. It gave her some sense of feeling like somebody when she felt like nobody.
The black filly eventually grew into an adult. She could’ve been a pretty thing with her darkened skin and bright amber eyes but she was not. She was not perfect—if that was the nicest way to put it.. She has an ewe-neck, slab-sided body, and is missing her left ear. Erinys was defective—not perfect or pretty.
Company is what she craves most right now. The disaster that spread across Beqanna, affecting all of them, did not bother her. She did not miss things that were gifted to her. Then again, she had never been given a gift, only things that made her ugly and unwanted. She sometimes wonders how she even is still alive, breathing and accepting who and what she is. It was a mystery to her, but somehow and someway she is still here.
Erinys slowly makes her way across the meadow. Her amber eyes pay no attention to others. If she is caught looking at another she acts like she never saw them there. She had no one—no friends, no family. It’s not that she had never wanted someone; it’s just that she never had found someone to accept her for who she was. She had never found someone like her—until now.
Her bright, amber colored eyes catch the four. She is quick to stop dead in her path—surprise and loss for words at the sight of them. It isn’t because they are defective and ugly looking, but because all four of them are like her (in some sort of way that doesn't make her feel so entirely alone right now in life). Erinys cannot help, doesn't even recall, but to make her way to them. It’s out of instinct, her mother’s own biological instinct to survive with her own kind, which guides her towards them.
“Hello,” she says softly, a little shy. She feels awkward for being here—not entirely feeling evens she belonged or had a right to speak to them. Erinys had never really been exposed to conversation as she was mostly ignored when she tried to make friends or talk to strangers. “I’m Erinys,” but she has to try…it might be the only thing she can do.
Perhaps the only one of them to feel the ache of aloneness is Malfunction. While their mother is fine at bringing up children (not in the parenting, religious sense; but she at least keeps them alive), she isn’t particularly adoring of them. They are all intense echoes of herself, of her own messed-up body, and of their grandfather with his messed-up body. Malfunction’s childhood was spent in the indifferent care of Defect and learning more about his epilepsy and colorblindness.
When Skid came along, things got easier. Skid did not feel the bite of loneliness, for Malfunction was ever-present to give the love their mother did not. And Smear appeared one spring day as well, also showered in the adornment by both of his brothers. Wound has received perhaps the most amount of love – all three of her brothers shower her with daily affections and remind her of the beauty she is despite their unforgiving and ugly circumstances.
The only degree of love all four of them know is from each other. It is pitiful, but it has knit them together closer than any sewing tool ever could. They are bound to one another in love, in encouragement, in protection. Where one falls down, the other three rally to pick them up. Where one rises up, the other three rally to raise them higher. It is unique, beautiful, and intense. But it is the only way they know how to live.
They have never seen someone else like them (someone who seemed to have been cursed by Aphrodite, someone entirely out of place it almost hurt, someone who wandered because no one would take them in) and it surprises all four of them when she approaches. Three heads turn to watch her (Wound’s remains snuggled against her brother’s, too distracted by the chilly air) but their expressions are open and curious. They have never been a bundle to turn someone else away – hell, they would be the last to do such a thing. Although the mindset could very well be to push those who push you, they are rather the opposite.
She introduces herself as Erinys. They stare for another moment (wide-eyed, confused, and severely unsure of what to do) before Smear nudges Malfunction. The eldest has always been the best talker of the group. “Hello, Erinys.” The silver bay clears his throat, nodding in her direction. “I’m Malfunction. This is Skid” – he nods toward his brother beside him, the one with his hind legs fused together and saliva dripping from his mouth like a miniature waterfall – “and Smear” – his nose points toward the smaller stallion near the back, with uneven tumors and a leg turned unnaturally – “and Wound.” The petite filly huddled next to Smear raises her head upon hearing her voice, doe-eyes opening and a childish smile brimming her face. She looks normal, aside from her undergrown foreleg. But there is a host of other deformities hiding under her skin just waiting to be discovered.
Malfunction turns his eyes toward the black mare (and the three other pairs of eyes do the same) before he offers her a hesitant smile. “We’ve never seen anyone…” he pauses to find the right words “… like us.”
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head.
Love—a strange and foreign thing to her. She has never known the deep emotional feeling of love. The feeling of intense care for another being other than yourself. She has never known the acts that come along with it too. The selfless acts where you would give up your whole world to be at the side of another or to even put yourself in danger too. These are all things she does not know, has never had the privilege too. However, this does not make her incapable to feel love—she could and would.
Her ambers eyes are never taken off of them, especially when all three oldest of the group watch her intently. Erinys can see the surprise look in their eyes, and she does not hide her surprise either from them. She does not feel awkward standing in the light of the show right now (not that she has always wanted to be someone that does, she preferred to be in the shadows most times). After all, these were her kind (her specie).
Erinys wants to smile but she remains silent, watching them carefully. She can feel her heart beating faster right now. A part of her wants to run from this. It feels like too much, especially the way they all stare at her (wide-eyed, confused, and unsure of what to do). Perhaps being brave had been the worst idea. Perhaps finding her own kind, someone like her, was not possible to ever happen. It felt like her own kind did not want her even—that was the worst feeling of all.
But she was entirely wrong. The silver bay speaks first, and a strange noise echoes out of her throat. She is surprised by a word is even being spoken to her. A grin grows on her black, thin lips as each of them are introduced to her by Malfunction. It grows larger as each name is called and by the time Malfunction introduces her to Wound, the biggest grin she has ever had in her life is spread from ear to ear.
When the silvery bay turns back, her grin fades though, feeling the rest of the eyes on her as well. She can see there is hesitance in the way he looks at her, but she hopes – so very badly – that this isn’t a goodbye. But, for now, it isn’t though and her grin comes running back onto her lips. “It’s all so very nice to meet you all.” The words from her sound so foreign to her. Erinys has never had a time where she spoke to someone like that. “I had to come meet you all…” she says softly, her grin fading slightly, “I too have never met anyone like myself.. like all of us.”
It was truly a wonder for her to find someone like her. No, four of them! The odds of the universe allowing her to find anyone like her had always felt so very slim, and that maybe in this life (or even if there was a next one, a heaven or hell for her kind) she would never find someone like her. “Where did you all come from?” She wants to say more, but she cannot jump the gun, she cannot send them screaming for the hills just now.
09-14-2016, 12:56 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2016, 12:56 PM by M + S + S + W.)
They’ve been in the spotlight before, but not in the way you would imagine. It hasn’t ever been on purpose (none of them are pretty or perfect enough for a starring role) and they plan on keeping it that way. They’ve been the commotion that turns the spotlight away from the leading actor. They’ve been the disruption (whether it be a drunken, yelling man or a sobbing, broken wife or a screaming, loud child) that has put the play on hold. They’ve been the incident that brought security guards out of their shadowy posts to bring the issue out of the spotlight.
They can imagine what she might feel like (how the brightness of their eyes warms her skin, how they pay attention with sharp clarity, how the listen as though her voice is an orchestra). Skid feels sympathy, Smear feels interest, Wound feels exhaustion, and Malfunction feels hope. They might breathe and love and plan as one, but they certainly don’t feel as one.
Erinys admits her own uniqueness, how she’s never found another similar to her (they are all different, yet they are similar in their difference from the rest of normality), and Malfunction’s lips tip into a small smile. Smear’s mouth also quips into a lopsided grin and Skid frowns, upset that there are not others and yet content that they have found one. The black mare seems pleased to have found them; and they are pleased to have found her.
She asks where they come from and there is a moment of silence. Truthfully, they have no home to call their own. They roam without a place to rest their heads (although each other’s shoulders have been suiting them fine so far) or a kingdom to work with. Perhaps the only true answer they could give is their parentage. Skid shifts uneasily, ears flicking in a moment of hesitance. Normally Malfunction would speak for them, being the only one truly capable of normalcy and words able to understand.
But the eldest is staring off in the distance, lost in thought (about their parents, about their unfortunate circumstances, about their lack of shelter, about their wandering and tired feet) and doesn’t seem suited to reply. A strike of fear rips through Smear’s chest. It would be awful for Malfunction to lose himself in a seizure in front of their new friend. The mute roughly shoulders his big brother, hoping to startle him out of the stupor before it got any worse.
As Malfunction blinks back to reality, Skid answers in a slippery voice. “No home.” They are simple words, two wet syllables to encompass everything they have survived. And, really, it’s the only thing they can say.
