"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
04-08-2021, 10:24 PM (This post was last modified: 04-08-2021, 10:25 PM by Padme.)
Padme survived the end times – just barely – and came out the other side scarred, heavily pregnant and a smidge traumatized from her otherworldly experiences here on the regular plane. She was attacked and chased from the field by some freaky pack of hybrid demon things, contorted, blood-red glowing eyes and snapping drooling jaws. She has a clear claw mark scar etched into her left hip, the hair growing back black against gray where her flesh was damaged. On her neck, just behind her cheekbone, there is a bite mark scar, still pink from healing.
Where she was once a deep black she’s now gray. Stubborn shadows of her former coloring border her serrated white patches, and smokey black remains across her face and head. Her muted tones frame the fiery chestnut of her foal, born quickly in the night just after the light returned. Things went well, especially for a first-time delivery. The foal is brand new, and her mother is malnourished, tearing violently at the fresh grass while the summer sun casts unhindered across the Meadow.
Mourna is a quiet, observant baby in her second day. She stays close to the patchy underbelly of her soft nosed mother, which makes her feel ‘safe’. Her first grip on life is ‘safe’ and ‘YIKES’ – she tries her best to stay within touching distance of her mother, keeping her warmth and smell close, or else the latter feeling comes over her. She follows the sweet smell of her mother’s milk, and weaves in and out of her long legs, letting her mother’s long raven-black tail cascade over her little red face.
In time it might be in their best interest to find a permanent residence, but when she tried that, it did not go well. No one came, until something came. She’s just fine with being here until the baby is a little stronger.
Ciri’s stars hadn’t left her, not even when night had faded and daylight raised cheerfully over the horizon. They were dimmer in the brightness but they still hovered protectively around her regardless. They hadn’t lied to her, those wise star ancestors. They had promised a reminder that they would never leave her again, the proof suspending slowly and calmly around her shoulders, glittering around her curved lobes and down her backside. She still can’t pull her shield during the day but it doesn’t bother her much. It had always been that way and she is just thankful she can at least summon it again.
As the heat rises in the Meadow and she meanders through dull grass and clear creeks, she comes across the duo. The slow spinning swirls of her iris’s take in the mare and she’s instantly more interested. There is a story written on the lines of her face, one that seems familiar to her. Her gaze rakes over the scars on her hips and the bite marks and she’s keenly aware suddenly of her own claw marks on her shoulder, the jagged pink scar beneath her eye, the marks of crows that are rampant across her body. There’s a haunted look to the strange mare and she’s instantly transported to her own time in the Upside Down. The toll it had taken on her. The stain of it still resided on her soul.
When she lands on the ginger foal, there’s a sharp painful tug to her heart. She can’t help but think of her lost son. Seeing the newborn reopens that barely closed wound, it still hurts to think of all the years lost with him. Of how she had been snatched from him when he was barely hours old. Tossing her head and shaking the tangles of raven locks along her neck, she throws them a small smile. “Hello” Her tone is warm enough as she keeps her distance, not wanting to intrude if she was unwanted here. Hesitating for a moment, feeling more awkward then usual. The mare was several shades and tones of shadow and gray, patches of white. She was beautiful and her child stands out like a flame beside her. “I was hoping to find some company… Might still be safer in numbers.” Another glance sweeping over the healing wounds and the vulnerability of the foal. The monsters had been assumed to flee with the banished darkness but one could never be too careful in this world. Better to be safe than sorry.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
Padme isn’t particularly social, like her stone-mannered mother, but unlike her freckled maternal guardian – she isn’t quite sour to a little pleasant company, either. When the mare approaches there is a fleeting instant where the mother’s dark ears flatten into her black hair, a warning, but the polite hello and a smile softens Pad’s demeanor right away. This stranger means no obvious threat, she soothes herself, touching her nose to her skittish child. She is cautious still, as any diligent mother should be, especially for the first baby, but she is not overly dramatic about it. Her expression isn’t exactly warm, but she isn’t snarling, or scowling, nodding after the mare adds to her hello.
“It can’t hurt, right?” this breaks her ambiguous look and she chuckles, cracking a smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in anyone’s company at all – when you hear noises in the darkness, you don’t stop to see if it is friendly..” she laughs again, light, subconsciously bumping her muzzle against her baby again before she continues. “I did not, anyway.” she smirks, bring her head up from the ginger newborn to level her gaze with the stranger. “I’m Padme, this is Mourna.” when her daughter’s name leaves her lips it melts just a little.
If she could sense at all the mourning in the mare before her it would cause much more delicacy. But she has no such magic, she is not sensitive to the mare’s inner pangs of pain, or the gutting feeling she gets when looking upon a healthy newborn. Padme hasn’t had such a pain in her life, and the thought doesn’t cross her mind, she is only proud to show the mare her child. At some point Pad thinks she may see a heaviness, a sadness, in the mare’s gaze when she looks at Mourna, but her brain dismisses it, it does not recognize it. Someday she may make this connection, showing a mourning mother a new child, but for now she is oblivious and only stupidly beaming.
PADMÉ & MOURNA the high black water, the devil's daughter
It’s not Padme’s fault, these little stabs to her heart as she touches her child, cautiously protecting her, little acts of love in each touch and caress. All those little moments that had been stolen from her when that portal had opened up beneath her, when she had been taken from her son and Amet and everything and everyone she cared about. There was a reason, that stars didn’t even have to soothe her with that knowledge. She knew that there was a reason for every single thing that had happened up to this point. Even if she still couldn’t make sense of it or figure out the ultimate goal of it all. Fate couldn’t be that cruel without a reason right?
The mare is guarded but relaxes slightly towards her and Ciri does the same. Letting go just enough to be unthreatening towards them but cautious to their surroundings. Curved ears constantly swivel, listening for what could be left behind from the banished darkness. The mare chuckles and smiles and she can’t help to respond in the same fashion as she takes a few steps closer to them, now that she was allowed. Her eyes travel back to Padme’s scars before looking back to her face. “Seems like the smart response all things considered.” A slight roll to her own clawed shoulder, an acknowledgment that sometimes it's the better choice to run than to fight.
Padme and Mourna. The softness that lingers around the babies name brings that sharp pang again but her smile doesn’t waver and her own swirling gaze softens slightly as she looks down at the filly. “I’m Ciri. It’s nice to meet you both.” The girl is beautiful and perhaps if it had been a little colt instead she might have broken down, her mask slipping. It’s easier to not see the face of her son in the crimson baby. It’s easier to ignore the memories. “Have you been living out here, during the dark times?” She’s curious to what it was like for everyone, how bad it had been. She had only been returned to these lands on the tail end of the Eclipse, enough to be blasted with light and then gifted with the twirling orbs around her. They seem to greedily soak up the sunlight, their stardust would be all the more glittery and brighter once night fell again. The reminder that regardless of it all, she was never alone. Not really.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
Padme looks up from the baby to look over the woman in front of her. Something about the look in her eye, it makes the paint mare’s heart stir in her chest. She’s not sure why, really, but a fleeting sadness washes through her and she’s not sure what it is. But Ciri’s voice breaks the light trance she’s in, her empathic moment she doesn’t understand and Pad’s lips crease in a smile.
“Oh yes,” she replies, recanting her experience of living alone in the darkness. “And for most of it I was so pregnant.” She grunts, “It was so awful.” she bumps her pale nose on the baby, continuing, “I even tried to find home – went to the Field, the only thing that came for me were the Monsters.” her heartrate rises just remembering. “I am so glad it’s over.”
04-25-2021, 01:14 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2021, 01:15 PM by Ciri.)
Ciri
There’s a hint of respect in her voice when she responds to Padme, a brow quirked as she looks at her with a small smile. “There’s not many who could have survived out here in that condition.” A swish of her tail, long strands brushing against her hocks as she relaxes into a more comfortable position. Her new acquaintance talks about trying to find a home in the field and being attacked by monsters and Ciri nods in understanding. She supposes that not many had ventured out of their homes to recruit but it leaves a sour taste in her mouth that nobody had tried to help the more unfortunate during such a disaster. There was strength in numbers so bolstering one’s population might have made a herd as a whole a much harder target. Plus it just wasn’t right to not help out others that had nowhere to go. And pregnant at that.
She hesitates for a moment, knowing this might be too personal of a question, but decides to ask anyway. “Forgive me if I’m out of turn but what about her father? He did not stay to protect you?” Pausing for another moment to let her respond, angling her head slightly as she listens. There’s a thought bubbling in her mind and she’s hesitant at first to voice it. Although being a traveling nomad was something she could do and had done for several years…. Her time in Hyaline had opened up a new world of possibilities. She finds that she misses that life, misses being part of something bigger then herself, misses being able to have a purpose. She had been Hyaline’s Heart, a title given for the love Amet had once had for her but to Ciri it had been much more. Of course she had loved Amet but she had also loved their home. She would have done anything to protect it. It would be nice… to care about something like that again.
“Now that the light is back, I was thinking of searching out the kingdoms. Seeing if anyone might want my services. I know we just met… but why don’t we go together? As much as I love the Meadow, I think I’m ready to move on.” The dark scarred lady hopes that Padme will accept, it’s something that could benefit them both. Ciri could use the company and help protect them if trouble arose. Padme could have an extra set of eyes to watch her child and possibly find a home. The slow swirl of her metallic gaze searches Padme’s face as she waits for her answer, her features calm and curious.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
05-24-2021, 12:14 PM (This post was last modified: 05-24-2021, 12:15 PM by Padme.)
She can’t help herself, chuckling a bit at the father question. “No,” she touches the little red baby. “Her father is useless in that regard.” She smiles to herself, thinking of Carnage, of how he’s inseminated 70% of the population and fathered much more than that…sometimes doing both of those things. With a dark God, it’s different, the magic knows very little boundary, if any, and depravity has held darklings back anyhow. The baby sneezes, bumping its nose against her mother’s belly and slowly finding its way to nurse.
“A kingdom.” she repeats the title, blinking, looking to the horizon and then back to Ciri. “Yeah,” she takes a deep breath, “that’s a good idea – I feel the same way, I like the Meadow, but I’m over it.” She steps forward, guding the baby with her muzzle, letting Ciri lead the way.
