"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
The bleeding had stopped eventually, as if the dream thing had willed it to.
The flesh had stitched itself back together and she had made herself whole again.
The fever had broken and the physical pain of it had subsided.
The stars had remained tangled in her hair, though. Whether the dream thing had left or she had left him, she was not sure.
But the river was somewhere far away and her thoughts were no longer muddy. The air around her glowed lilac as she moved through the darkness, throwing her features into stark relief. Could she find the dream thing again if she looked hard enough? Or would that end in disappointment the same way her only other friendship had ended, too?
The cursed heart in her chest twinges with the memory (not distant enough not to hurt yet) as she makes her way through the thick underbrush of the forest. There is some small, distant part of her that longs for the fever, the bliss of delirium. Things had hurt less when she’d believed them a dream. Even as she’d dripped blood into the turbulent river, aching.
There had been no loneliness, no bitterness, no fear.
She peers into the darkness, remembering the sharp sting of agony that had torn through her some days before as the shadows had sunk their teeth into her flesh. The heart beats frantic in her chest as she quickens her pace, hurrying, until panic seizes her and she begins to run.
And she runs until she collides with something solid.
04-05-2021, 02:35 PM (This post was last modified: 04-05-2021, 02:35 PM by Ciri.)
Ciri
Once she had known this forest like the back of her hand. Now it's foreign to her, muted rustling of ferns and limbs, whispers that make her skin crawl, divots and and twisted roots that threaten to sprain a fetlock. And that never-ending darkness that seems even more oppressive here then it had been in Hyaline. She’s still trying to work out a plan, trying to figure out what she wants to do now. The only obvious answer is seeking out a way to get her missing stars back. Beqanna is more dangerous than ever and she feels the absence of her star aura as a pressing weight within her, one that spreads larger every day. It’s been a part of her for so long that she had never thought it could one day just disappear. What’s more troubling is the lack of stars in the sky itself. Even before she had even known about her power, she had always at least had her connection with the stars above, could at least see them and be soothed by the things they infiltrated in her dreams. Now all was silent. Now her dreams only consisted of her past failures and domination of the eclipse, that blackness seeming too seep into everyone and everything. Obviously it’s connected, the way the sun refuses to rise, the way the night is smudged with unnatural dark clouds, the lack of light in general. What she can’t figure out is how to fix it, what she can even do about it.
In her thoughts, she doesn’t hear the muffled hoofbeats that approach fast and furious on her right side. She’s caught off guard when something collides into her and she’s sent spinning into the hard rough bark of a tree nearby. Her reaction is pure instinct, a sharp whinny of warning as her teeth snap and lobes pin back, whirling to face whatever it is that attacked her. And stopping short with wide silvery swirling eyes as she takes in the faint lilac hue. As she sees the stars. ”How…” They aren’t her own, she knows how her aura works and how the stars move around her body. She can’t look away from them, the way they hover around the one that assaulted her but she doesn’t even see her. It’s been so long since she had seen her beloved friends, her connection to something that was part of her and more then her, and she drinks them in longingly before finally forcing herself to look at the one that had what she had been desperately looking for. ”How do you have yours and I can’t pull mine?” Unable to keep a hint of an accusatory tone from her voice as she asks flatly, finally assessing the mare before her with the cool silvery swirls of her stare. There’s an ache to her ribcage where she had slammed into both tree and horse but it’s nothing compared to the pain of wanting what has been taken from her and having it dangling right before her nose.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
@[basilica]
(I know they mutated but figured I'd catch them before they do =D )
She staggers, struggles to regain her footing in the darkness. The impact arrests the air in her chest and she drags in a great, heaving gasp as the sharp, warning sound tears through the silence. She cannot retreat quickly enough, though the snapping teeth find no purchase on the great plains of her flesh and they are plunged back into that oppressive silence as she struggles to catch her breath enough to blurt out an apology.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps, though it does not seem to be an apology the dark mare is after.
Still, Basilica cowers, swallowing a grimace. Guilt pulses through her, radiating outward from that cursed heart in that cursed cage. How desperately she wants to reach out, to touch the mare, to undo whatever damage she has done. But she is wary of the snapping teeth, the wide, silver eyes trained on her through the swath of darkness that separates them, the single syllable that drips out of the mare’s mouth sounding like an accusation.
Hers? Basilica tears her gaze away from the dark mare to study the stars that gather around her. And she feels that same sudden rush of fondness for the dream thing that had given them to her. Orville. How he had found her at the edge of the river and pulled her up and out of the depths, draped her so delicately in these stars.
Despite the hammering in her chest, she smiles. It is small, uncertain, hardly there at all.
“They were a gift,” she murmurs, soft, as if this might explain it.
And the stars wink in agreement, pleased. And then they are gone, too and both mares are left without their stars. (And Basilica is too distraught to notice that the stars have been replaced by flowers.
“Oh,” she cries, turning in a quick circle, “oh, where have they gone?”
HEAVEN’S GATES HAD SUCH ELOQUENT GRAFFITI
@[Ciri] might be fun if the sun comes back in this thread and they both get their stars back!
04-10-2021, 09:28 PM (This post was last modified: 04-10-2021, 09:28 PM by Ciri.)
Ciri
An apology comes gasping from the mare’s lips and she instantly regrets being so snappy, even if she had collided into her. Ciri can see the whites of her eyes even in the darkness, can smell the sharp sting of sweat and fear, hear the heavy breathing as she tries to catch her breath. Cowering from her. ”It’s ok.” She finally responds, released with a sigh and her gaze still pinned to the stars that dance around her tauntingly. Quietly the girl explains how she had gotten her stars but it still doesn’t answer her question. She doesn’t understand if she’s being punished in some way or perhaps something had gone wrong when she had been transported back into this place. Perhaps her stars were lost forever. Perhaps they had turned their back on her once and for all.
Before she can speak again, the stars start to sputter and then suddenly go out completely. Disappear. A cry leaves the mare’s mouth and she’s rooted to her spot, watching as she circles and searches for them. Had she done that? Was this her fault? ”I…” She hesitates, uncertain of what to do. It’s too dark for her to see the flowers that now weave between the other’s mane although a sweet scent seems to suddenly float through the air. A sudden rustling comes from the brush to her right and its instinct that makes Ciri spins towards it placing herself between whatever is making the noise and the panicked mare. She had always been a protector even if she was grossly outmatched.
Ears pinned and metallic iris’s penetrating the darkness, pupils dilating as she tries to see what’s lurking in the shadows. This place wasn’t safe and there is an eerie sense that they are being watched. Perhaps something to do with the strangers light blinking out. Now it makes sense, why she had been running so hard. She is painfully aware of how exposed she is without the stars to call down to her aid but her body tenses and takes a defensive stance regardless. ”If it gets me, run.” She manages to whisper as she watches and waits.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
@[basilica]
Dang I already wrote up her stars returning in a starter thread but I'm down to bring the light back here, she can't use star aura until it's night anyways so maybe seeing Basilica's stars again gives her hope till that point
The mare softens and the guilt and shame that had polluted Basilica’s bloodstream begins to dissipate, scattered by the dark mare’s reassurance. Basilica almost manages a stilted smile, her lilac eyes uncertain as the taut muscles begin to unravel and she begins to relax.
But the peace does not last long before her stars wink out and panic seizes her again. And she thinks of her dream thing and how he’d given her the stars and how she must get them back. Orville. Orville.
The stars do not mean as much to Basilica as they do to this mare. She was not born with them, they were not born with her. Basilica has never belonged to the sky and the sky has never belonged to her. But they had been a gift from her dream thing and she cannot afford to lose them and her panic threatens to choke her as she searches the darkness for any sign of them.
But they’re gone, just like the dark mare’s stars are gone, and her heart pounds relentlessly in the narrow space at the base of her throat. She is so distracted by her worry that she does not hear the rustle in the nearby bushes until the mare speaks and she abruptly stills, turning to face the source of the noise. The dark mare has wedged herself between Basilica and the sound and Basilica feels a sudden rush of fondness for this stranger.
She may look like a soft thing, Basilica, but she had spent hours bleeding at the edge of the river after a monster had dipped its greedy fingers into her flesh and feasted on whatever it found. She shakes her head gently and takes a step toward the sound until the two of them are standing shoulder-to-shoulder. She draws in a long breath, steeling herself. A sense of calm washes over her because she is not afraid of this, not anymore. (Not the same way she had been afraid of never finding the stars that she had lost so suddenly.)
“I won’t leave you,” she says and then sets her jaw.
She is not all that brave, Basilica, but she is kind.
HEAVEN’S GATES HAD SUCH ELOQUENT GRAFFITI
@[Ciri] no sweat!!! they can either have one last showdown with a monster or be saved by the sun!! up to you!! (:
04-25-2021, 12:54 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2021, 12:56 PM by Ciri.)
Ciri
Ciri had once looked like a soft thing too. Although the elders of the Falls and even her own mother often spoke of her being an old soul and unusually perceptive and calm for a child (of the strangeness of her swirling silver orbs and the piercing of her gaze as if she could see right through you), she had been quiet and gentle for most of her childhood. It was her desire to protect others, her life as a wandering gypsy type, and the reality of life that had finally hardened and sharpened those soft edges. Becoming a fighter had just happened and she took to it like a fish to water. But even with her experience, without the power of her stars, she knows she’s grossly outmatched here.
The rustling is louder and the darkness becomes more suffocating. The curved slope of her ears twitch and swivel to try and figure out where exactly the monster was… and hoping it was only one of them. Only being able to rely on her hearing as her sight is swallowed by the endless night, trying to quiet her breathing as she stands defensively, tense and still. She is so focused on what’s before her, thinking that the other has followed her advice, that she doesn’t realize Basilica is directly beside her until she flinches slightly as shoulder brushes against shoulder.
“I won’t leave you.”
There’s a constriction around her heart, gritting her teeth as an overwhelming feeling rushes through her body. Words that she wished Amet or Castile had once said to her when she had needed them most. Even though death and danger loom around them, she can’t help but blink back silvery tears, refusing to shed them and focusing again on the threat that’s coming closer and closer. Forgetting that the other probably can’t see her very well, she gives a slight nod of acknowledgment to the mare that she had heard. Maybe it wasn’t smart, letting her stay when she had seen the panic in the mare earlier. However she hadn’t missed the determination in her voice and knows what its like to be worn down and sick of running. She can respect that completely.
In a matter of seconds, everything changes. There’s a sudden roar and crash as something barrels out of the underbrush, snapping branches and thundering towards them. Ciri lifts herself up partially on her hind limbs, her front hooves punching out again and again at whatever is attacking them as a sharp whistle of warning pierces the smothered air. She can’t see her new companion and only hopes she’s not caught off guard. Something slices across her breast and she inhales sharply with the sting of pain.
Before she can react, a deafening boom erupts and light explodes all around them.
For a moment, she can see the Monster. It’s a nightmare fuel creation, something that haunts her dreams and makes her think of the Underneath. Bile rises in her throat as well as her fear. And then she is blinded, making her stumble as her forelimbs crash back to the earth and her eyes close in pain. It takes a few minutes for the light to calm, black spots dancing across her vision as she winces and tries to pry her eyelids open against the assault of sunlight. Still cautious and trying to hear where the creature was now. “Are you ok?” She calls out to Basilica, hoping the Monster was gone and hadn’t hurt her new companion.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
She inherited the heart from her father, Basilica, a strong heart, this thing that refused to let them die. It is this heart that has him stood beside this stranger she’d recoiled from only moments before, each of them now ready to sacrifice their life for the other. It is this heart that now beats wildly in the cage of her chest, the pulse resonating in her throat, the base of her skull. It is not fear but adrenaline, anticipation.
She had been unprepared the last time she’d encountered one of them, caught unaware. She will be ready this time. Even more than that, she will not be alone. She will fight alongside a friend and the thought makes that strong heart twinge fiercely.
And then the shadow thing comes crashing out of the darkness and she feels the mare beside her move. Basilica grits her teeth and lunges, throws herself headlong into the fray. But the thing evades her somehow and her breath catches violently as she stops short, searching for it through the crushing black.
And then -
And then there is such a deafening sound that she thinks the thing has come for her. Light erupts behind her eyes (or so she thinks) and she wonders if this is what it feels like to die. Until she realizes that the light has not come from behind her eyes at all but from the sky instead and the thing has gone with the sun’s violent return. She grimaces against the blinding glow, pain searing through her head as she struggles to locate the mare.
They are alone here and the mare is bleeding. Chest heaving, eyes burning, Basilica goes to her. “I’m okay,” she assures the mare, so distracted by the state of her companion’s chest that she has not noticed the return of her own stars. “You’re bleeding,” she says, rushed, and reaches out to press her muzzle against the mare’s chest. She closes her eyes, relaxing into the magic that flows from her touch into Ciri’s wound, trembling faintly with the effort it takes to heal her.
HEAVEN’S GATES HAD SUCH ELOQUENT GRAFFITI
@[Ciri] let me know if you don't want ciri healed and i can tweak the end lol
“You’re bleeding.” The black stars in her eyes are starting to fade as she feels the soft touch of Basilica against her chest. Still wincing against the brightness of the Sun’s return, she pries her eyelids open and looks to see what she is doing. The gash across her chest throbs with the sudden pressure from her muzzle and Ciri grits her teeth in response, thinking this was just another nasty scar to add to the collection.
The pain starts to fade and with it returns her clarity as the skin begins to knit itself back together under her companions healing touch. She relaxes under the care of the other, looking out beneath her long lashes as the silver swirls of her eyes take in Basilica for the first time in the light. The mare had blended in well with the dark, touched with brushes of white that dust along her forehead and belly. She watches how the violet of her eyes concentrate on the wound, the way they focus with intensity.
A soft smile, uncertain but warm, falls on her own dark lips. “Thank you.” She murmurs and pauses as she catches something out of the corner of her eye. Looks at the delicate petals and buds entwined in the thickness of Basilica’s mane. “Your flowers are very pretty.” She finally manages, realizing with a flush of heat, that she had not been this close to another in a very long time. Let alone touched.
Suddenly taking on monsters in the dark seemed a less daunting task as she steps back the moment the mare’s healing retreats. Her gaze glances down at her chest, at the unmarked skin that lays where the wound had once been. A rarity of space amongst a ravaged canvas. “Where were you years ago?” She laughs lightly, a slight grin given as her swirling eyes come to meet her lilac ones.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
She remembers.
Remembers standing by the river, bleeding. How the heart had not let the bleeding stop, how the healing had not let her die. How the dream thing had begged her to rest.
It is the heart now that keeps the effort of healing her companion from exhausting her completely. (The heart is such a strange thing. It grants her both tremendous strength and devastating weakness.) It does not embarrass her to touch the mare, Basilica. No, she is a kind thing. An affectionate thing. Built for curling herself around others, just like her mother.
It had not even occurred to her to ask permission before she’d reached for Ciri. Had not occurred to her to think that there were those who did not want to be helped. But the dark mare does not recoil, no. She does not gnash her teeth as Basilica focuses all of her energy into stitching the skin back together.
Ciri’s thanks does not fall on deaf ears but the most Basilica can offer in response is a slanted smile -- she cannot give more than this when it had been automatic, second nature. The dark mare had been willing to give up her life for her, it is the least she can do to repay her. But Basilica’s brow furrows in confusion with the mention of flowers and she turns to glance at her tail, her heart lurching at the sight of the blooms tangled there.
“Thank you,” she muses, though there is a note of questioning in her tone. (Is this the dream thing’s doing? Had he taken the stars only to replace them with the flowers? Is this merely a continuation of the dream?)
With her heart beating something sideways, she draws her attention back to Ciri, the smooth flesh of her chest, the scars adoring the rest of her and offers a slanted smile. “Life has not been kind to you?” she asks gently, convinced now that she is still lost in a dream.
