"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
He had left the Mountain in a fury of anger and humiliation. He had known the fae to be cruel and knew it had been certain kind of choice to not even acknowledge him at all. He hadn’t missed the others on the Mountain or their requests and he bristles with remembrance of the slight made to him. Of their silence.
He doesn’t even remember getting down the rocky path as he storms back towards Sylva. Not paying attention at all as he gets turned around and ends up in a completely different location from where he intended. The scent of horses is faded, barely lingering, as if others hadn’t occupied this place in awhile. Wildflowers seem to spread like a thick blanket all over this place and easily he can imagine himself spending long days lounging in it’s thickness. It’s only when he catches the fragrance of fairy nectar (as he pushes through the flowers) that an idea spring to mind.
It didn’t matter, what he did in this world. It didn’t matter if he asked or screamed, if he demanded or pleaded. No, he was done with being ordinary. It was about time he started taking. And he was going to start right now.
He calls to the fae and to whoever else might be hidden here. “I’m Obscene and I’m your new Prince of the Pampas.” And it’s not a lie, he had once been a Tephran prince. He had once been something, even if it had only been for a moment. It was time to be something again.
Obscene
Going for it since it seems pretty vacant. If there is anyone that planned on sticking around, it's going to be a more Duchy type territory instead of a herd just fyi <3
When he finally lands down in the Pampas, the smell of a thousand wildflowers is the first thing to greet him. It would seem this place had fared well enough through the Eclipse and the Loessian Champion is glad of that. It will make the first part of his report to Queen Oceane easy enough. There are no rotting corpses that he can immediately see and there is no stench in the air to indicate that some might be decomposing beneath the flowers.
The silver pegasus walks through the fields and meadows, finding them mostly vacant as the Queen had indicated they might be.
He's prepared to find nothing. What he isn't prepared for is a voice that calls out like a bellow of thunder. The gray stallion turns his head and his ears prick forward as the voice carries over the wildflowers. Tarian changes his course to find a young stallion with burning red eyes, staking a claim on the territory. He's never seen Noah - described to him as a small strawberry roan - and if he had to make a guess (Tarian never minds assuming anything), this young stud isn't one of her relatives.
Deciding it might be better to leave introductions out for the moment, he moves towards the dark brute. "What are your plans for this place?" Tarian asks brusquely (because he will not tolerate more troubles for Loess) when he is finally close enough to be heard. His dark lips press in a thin line and the pegasus has a feeling that the second part of this report to Oceane will certainly be unexpected.
@[Obscene] i've been meaning to post him here anyways and this seemed like a good opportunity
The only one that comes forward after his bold claim is a silver winged stallion. He watches the older male with vague interest as he closes the distance between them, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent of the stranger. He doesn’t smell like pollen or wild grasses, the fragrance of this place doesn’t mingle with the musk of him. He’s not sure why the pegasus is here or what his interest in the Pampas is but he doesn’t seem to be contending him in his conquest, posing a rather decent question.
What was he planning on doing with this place?
His red eyes scan the empty density of flowers that carpet the landscape, catching a glimpse of transparent wings that dart between petals. The only sign of life besides the two that now stood facing each other. “Make it a little less quiet to start with.” He finally replies with a small shrug, looking back towards the winged man with a disconcerting grin. The kind of smile he gives when he starts to get nervous. He hadn’t learned much about leadership from his parents despite the titles they had once had. He had never held that kind of ambition and to be honest he still doesn’t. He figures it can’t be that hard, he still remembers bits and pieces from watching and listening to Offspring. One of those things was holding your cards close to your chest and not revealing more than what was needed.
“Why do you ask?” Red iris’s narrowing slightly with suspicion as he tries to gage what the other’s intentions are, the only sign of his caution as his demeanor cools and he cocks a hoof behind him. Ever the picture of indifference.
05-02-2021, 02:42 PM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2021, 02:42 PM by Tarian.)
Maybe Tarian doesn't see or sense the fairies because he stopped believing in them a long time ago. There had been nothing magical about men dying or crying out from wounds that wouldn't heal. There was nothing magical in the vacant faces of those who survived, who if they had any expression at all, it appeared as a surprise that they were still among the living.
He had been brought up to revere the Winds, to praise the Stars, to listen to their Ancestors. And Tarian had become a man who believed in none of those things because they had been nowhere to be found. Not in Beyond. Not in Liridon. And certainly not in Beqanna.
The pegasus believes in himself, though. He is confident in his abilities (unless it regards Altissima because he doesn't doubt she would find another way to prove him wrong) and so when he stands with squarely-set shoulders and a lifted head, the picture that presents itself is wholely Tarian. Always the soldier, never the diplomat. His entire focus is on the brute in front of him.
His blue eyes narrow perceptively when the red-eyed Prince says that he intends to make the Pampas a little less quiet. It's not the answer he was hoping for. A not-quiet has the potential for upsetting the peace that Loess has so recently earned.
"Because the Queen of Loess asked that I visit the Pampas and bring back news of it to her," the Champion tells the midnight stallion. Tarian sees no use in keeping that from the newly-appointed leader. His stare becomes more pointed when he asks, "So perhaps you might elaborate on 'a little less quiet.'"
You would think that Obscene of all horses would be the one to not believe in magic or faeries. Born quite physically plain, painfully mortal, and not even a whisper of magical ability to be seen. He had never understood how it was that the fae had come to find him as a foal, why they had picked him out from all the rest. Perhaps that should have made him feel somewhat special but it didn’t. It had just been a fact that as Liz and Offspring became more distant and he found himself alone for longer periods of time that the fae stepped in as if they had always been there. They did their best to try and tame the wild feral creature he had become but fae weren’t the best parental examples either. Still, he supposes he could have turned out a hell of a lot worse.
The conversation turns from uncertain caution to rather aggressive in the blink of an eye. The red eyed stallion doesn’t appreciate the tone or the flaunt of authority the older male tries to use on him and it’s clearly apparent as his trusted and true sneer finds his features and he gazes at him with clear contempt. “I suppose that’s a matter of discussion between me and your Queen then.” He responds pointedly, the subtle dig that Tarian was of little importance in the scheme of things. “If she wants elaboration then she can ask me herself.”
Perhaps that should have been something to consider before taking ownership of this place, that he had now placed himself on the board of politics. He didn’t even know who this damn Queen was. Oh well, he’s sure he will find out soon enough. Hopefully she wasn’t as predictably dull as her servant that stands before him. Speaking of boring, he realizes it’s been several hours of being sober and he’s sure there’s some nectar with his name on it. “Now if you excuse me, I have things to do and I believe you are… Oh what’s the word… Ah yes, trespassing on my land.” He’s pretty sure he remembers visitors needing to wait on the border back in Tephra, something about respect. He raises a brow at the silver man, the smirk mischievous and smug. “I’m sure your Queen wouldn’t want us to get off on the wrong hoof would she?” The dismissal is clear in his tone and he remains in his leisurely stance as if unperturbed either way.
05-02-2021, 04:25 PM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2021, 04:26 PM by Tarian.)
The reaction of the younger stud changes quick enough and it speaks louder about the stallion than anything he might have said about his age. But he speaks anyway, revealing to Tarian that whatever he intends for the Pampas is something he will only discuss with the Queen. If he thinks this will upset the older man, the other horse has much to learn about Beqanna and her politics. Tarian has not introduced himself - has given no rank or name - and if there is something that this land seems to love, is that you never know who you are going stumble across.
But he stands with a stoic expression as the other stallion continues to talk and Tarian listens, because this is what is he has come for. He's a horrible diplomat, he knows this. And his temper has gotten the better of him before. The Loessian has no intention of doing that here because after the Dragonflames, the Pangean thefts, the Eclipse - he will not bring more unrest to his home and whatever brews here in the Pampas can stay.
"Very well," Tarian says tersely. He might be determined to not let his irritation get the better of him in this situation - and so he does his duty with a tight jaw. Better to keep his mouth because whatever his thoughts are, they aren't the reflection of the kingdom he represents. He flares his wings out as he turns to go but then stops, glancing behind him at the flightless creature. "I shall be letting the Queen know of your... ascension." He shouldn't, he knows. He shouldn't say anything more. The pegasus has bit his tongue for this long but asks anyway (a flaunt of his old Court life protocol): "Do you have a message of greeting for her?"
He doesn’t care one way or another how the stranger reads into his words, if he interprets it as a threat or not. This place had obviously been dead a long time. Personally his precious Queen should be thanking him for wanting to liven up the joint, surely that would benefit her no? He may be inexperienced but that seems like a common sense fact to him. He’s far from worried about what Tarian plans on reporting back. Although his instinct is usually rudeness and cruelty, he had his rare moments of charm. More than likely he would be high as a kite the moment she decided to visit and would quickly see that what little ambition he had lingered close to his new home.
He can see he’s irritated the elder due to the terseness of his voice and he only smirks more smugly. Pleased with himself. Tarian tries once more to unsettle the young dark stallion but Obscene doesn’t waver, his demeanor still one of complete disinterest. “I’m sure you will.” He responds drily, holding back the instinct to roll his eyes. As for a message… He pauses for a moment as a glint of mischief sparks in the depths of red. “When she’s ready to have a good time then I’ll be here.”
He’s very aware just how tongue in cheek his words are and more than likely how Tarian is going to relay it. It’s not a lie though. What was the point of being royalty or a ruler if you can’t enjoy it? If anyone knew how to take the edge off, it was Obscene.
Tarian knows that he can't speak officially for Lady Oceane. The gray stallion harbors his own thoughts on this interaction and a few times, his irritation with the meeting shows in the form of a disapproving frown that even manages to break into a scowl. His pale wings are already flared and the Loessian is more than ready to leave.
Truthfully, he should have left long before this.
But perhaps the new leader has a message, something of merit to carry to the Queen of the South. He keeps his jaw tightly clenched so that anything else he might wish to add to this conversation is locked away. Tarian looks behind him, watching the brute from over his shoulder and when he speaks, the pegasus schools himself to indifference. He hears out the younger brute and with his message in mind, Tarian turns away. A few trot strides and then the stallion is in the air, leaving the Pampas and its Prince behind him.
