"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
12-09-2021, 09:45 PM (This post was last modified: 02-15-2022, 12:56 AM by adrius.)
adrius
sometimes i think i am free
until i find i'm back in line again
“Your beauty will do more for you than your father can ever teach you,” is what Adrius’ mother always told him. His family has always been strict and rigid, though his mother is the harsher of his two parents. Her eyes would grow cold when she spoke of the sharp lines that turned Adrius’ face into a regal visage.
Hours spent practicing in battle and learning the habits of school-fish balance out the cruel teachings of Adrius’ mother. His father, though the warrior and trader of their family, possesses a much kinder nature than he wife. Mistakes were met with warm laughter and a gentle correction. It’s his father that levelled his pride, rounded out Adrius’ sharp beauty to warm the cold winter of the ego his mother encouraged.
To be wealthy in connections and favor, one had to wear their pride like fashion; but his father always had a distaste for haughtiness.
There are some wounds that might never heal, despite the warmth and affection of another. To this day, Adrius is still a wickedly proud man. Even with his family’s fall from grace, he lifts his chin with the might of a well-swing broadsword. It’s that pride that makes him growl when he realizes it is raining upon the first beach he finds.
“Blasted water,” he swears as his body fights a shift into his land-form. The heavily pouring rain tricks his instincts. He knows he is better trained than that and stalks forward across the beach, black eyes scanning the foliage beyond.
It takes a rumbling of the earth to get Maurtia to be interested enough to wander off of Ischia’s islands and back onto the mainland. She leaves behind the bones and ghosts that have become familiar, taking with her only her companion - a shadowy wolf that mingles with the fog that rises around her legs as she crosses through Tephra.
When she is greeted by water on the other side of the jungle kingdom, she has to stand still for a moment and frown at it. As though doing so will get it to speak to her and explain itself.
Sure, it had been a few years since Beyza had taken them to Ischia but she is very sure there had only been one water crossing along the way.
Without the aid of her mother’s magic, Maurtia first attempts to craft herself a raft out of bones and - finding that the fragments around her are too small and the overall process would take too much effort - decides to swim instead.
About halfway across she looks to the north and sees a trail of land that stretches the length of the channel and hears the laughter of nearby ghosts.
Undaunted, even when it begins to rain, Maurtia emerges on the beach at the other side in an unreasonably good mood for someone so soaked.
Perhaps that is because there is someone interesting nearby. He looks like he belongs in Ischia, she decides, and maybe that’s what draws her a little closer though as he stalks across the beach he is heading away from her. Her long tail drags behind her, and would be a prettier sight if she had not just emerged from the water. The damp hair collects dirt and sand and anything else it can find - but her bright white eyes are on the blue figure ahead.
She is not trying to be discrete with following him, though she attempts for a while to match her stride with the hoofprints left in the soft ground just to see if she can. Eventually, even this game gets boring as well as the silence so she calls out - “Where are you going?”
02-01-2022, 08:51 PM (This post was last modified: 02-15-2022, 12:57 AM by adrius.)
adrius
sometimes i think i am free
until i find i'm back in line again
Adrius’ father is a hearth of a man. Bearing all the warmth of a crackling fire and the welcoming glow of a well-lit living room, he can draw a smile from even the most sullen mouths. It was on his father’s shoulder that Adrius drew strength. Even at his weariest, the bolstered shoulder of his father reenergized him. The kind memory of that love is what keeps him striding ever-forward, even if those steps are aimless and angry.
As the rain comes down on Adrius, he blinks slowly, drawing back his pace until he has come to a full stop. Water sparkles down the scales that never leave his body and the fins along his legs flex when he angles his head just enough to peer behind him.
Where are you going?
A sigh followed by a snort is Adrius’ initial response. He turns back around, shoulders tensing, and peers into his rain-blurred surroundings. There should be more fear in his heart for strangers in an unknown land, but mostly there is exasperation.
“Wouldn't you like to know?” Adrius calls back, turning his head just enough for Maurtia to see the hard lines of his face. He watches her through the single black eye angled in her direction, then spins in a slow circle to face the woman.
Unwilling to swallow his pride and admit he has no idea where he is, Adrius stands in silence, dark gaze flicking over the muted red and black hues of the stranger.
“Are you from here?” he finally concedes, hoping he might coerce his location from her without exposing his lack of knowledge. “I am leaving my home, if you must know,” he adds as an afterthought.
A small laugh escapes Maurtia at the first response she gets - it’s a bright, warm sound because she’s genuinely amused by the answer she got. Of course she wanted to know, that’s why she asked! She would have happily continued to follow him until she found out the answer anyway (or until she got bored, or distracted by something else). His stopping and turning to face her, however, is what she had really been hoping for. She draws a little closer, to a more friendly distance, her pale eyes dancing along the lines of his fins.
What is their texture like?
She’d like to know but it doesn’t remain her focus when he speaks again.
Her grin grows a little bit and she tilts her head slightly to the right as she regards him. “From this exact spot? No. This land in a more general sense, yes.”
It takes a moment, but his question inspires a thought and the moment it hits, her pale eyes widen and she whispers “Are you not?!” Maurtia isn’t sure she’s ever met someone that wasn’t from Beqanna before - well, not anyone alive. Some of the ghosts she’s fond of annoying in Ischia are those who had come here from other lands - and when they’re in a good mood they’d tell her stories of these places she had no hopes of ever seeing.
There remains a faint touch of amusement in her voice as she continues - and a brightness in her expression that has little to do with the glow of her eyes in the dim, rainy setting. “That’s nice that you’re leaving your home, but if we want to get technical that isn’t what I asked. Unless you’re just going to walk in a circle and head right back to it.”
02-12-2022, 01:34 PM (This post was last modified: 02-15-2022, 12:59 AM by adrius.)
adrius
sometimes i think i am free
until i find i'm back in line again
“Hm,” Adrius hums, matching Maurtia’s grin with an equally as unamused frown. Her teasing nature rubs his rigid upbringing raw. The black of his eyes swirls and darkens, as if he is fighting saying something that desperately wants to be heard.
With a clearing of his throat, Adrius draws himself to a straight, statuesque stance (which, to be frank, looks a bit silly in the pouring rain, with his thick mane and tail sticking his scales). The frown deepens when Maurtia gives him a sarcastic response, then grows into a silent snarl when she guesses exactly what he is trying to hide.
“You’re very rude,” he finally snaps, unable to mind his manners for her sake, despite the strict customs of his homeland.
When the woman continues to press on where he is going, Adrius does not even attempt to hide his exasperated sigh. He glares at Maurtia with hardly a mask to hide his agitation, pressing his lips together because of the shame of his outburst.
Clearing his throat once again, Adrius loosens his face and answers coldly, “I have absolutely no idea where I am going. Is that what you wanted to hear? Never in my life have I been questioned so crassly.”
She’s not offended by being called rude. Her smile remains bright, and she only feels entertained, as she tilts her maneless head to regard him, rainwater sliding off of her dark, pearlescent skin. The weather and how it is soaking her already heavy tail matters very little to her when in the company of such a fascinating and clearly annoyed creature.
Just as he does not conceal his agitation, she has a hard time concealing her satisfaction at having gotten an answer out of him - even though she knows it isn’t nice to gloat.
She doesn’t get why it matters so much to him, but that is another of his scabs for her to try to pick at in the future. Possibly the very near future.
First, in response to his cold tone, she remarks with amusement: “You clearly don’t have sisters.” Since she has no other source to draw on for information, it is easy to assume that all sibling relationships are like the one she has with her sisters - where they pester each other constantly. Or, at least, she and Decima pester one another. It is difficult to bother Neuna since she is so kind, and harder still to egg her on enough that she bothers them.
She straightens up too, unintentionally copying him, and continues as though he hadn’t snapped at her at all. “So, would you like to know about this place or do you just want to stomp around and sulk without doing a thing to make things better?”
What a fascinating pair the two of them make: agitator and agitatee. Perhaps a common trope, but one so entertaining it keeps them on bated breath. That’s how Adrius feels: on the edge of his seat, holding his breath, wondering if Maurtia might drag another burst of angry energy from him. In a way, such interactions are addicting. He finds release for the anger he represses and a quick reprieve from the monotony of such a rigid culture.
Deep down, in the moving parts of Adrius that he ignores, his tension relaxes just enough to feel acceptance. To know he likes this prodding. To think he might stick around to see just how Maurtia might pick away at him, perhaps until there’s nothing left to hide. Until only anger and betrayal remains.
Adrius shakes his head. No distractions, like mother taught him in all social interactions and father in their livelihood. No distractions. Even if he likes them.
“No,” he snaps back through gritted teeth, roiling eyes boring holes into the stranger. His mother would never have stood for sisters. She hardly had the patience to raise a well-behaved boy, much less teach the intricacies of social interactions for women. Strong women are valued in the Baltian society. Adrius can hardly imagine the pressure his mother would have put on any imaginary sister.
Maurtia’s next words make every muscle in Adrius’ body tense. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t swallow, doesn’t even blink or twitch. He stares at the dark woman but doesn’t see, instead seeing every possibility that stretches before him. Every instinct he has tells him to acquiesce, to quietly dismiss himself and learn the lay of the land on his own. The rage that constantly spins in his chest now deals the damage of a tornado, spinning and spitting every spiteful thought he’s ever had. The wildest part of him thinks he can snap back but admit acceptance, accept Maurtia’s assistance while swallowing his pride.
“You . . .” he says sharply, but finds he cannot even get past a sentence. Adrius sighs, suddenly and viciously tired.
“Fine.”
Adrius lifts head once again, looking Maurtia over critically.
“Will you show me around? And we can . . . answer each other’s questions?”
Had Maurtia’s tail been easier to manage, she might have flicked it or wagged it in her satisfaction. She’s half expecting him to just combust right there, that’s how tense he looks - as though his next breath might just be a little too much pressure and she’ll be covered in chunks of a very pretty blue.
He honestly might be easier to deal with if he were dead - and it would be incredibly entertaining for him to discover that there was no relief from her even in death. Entertaining for her, anyway. She was just as capable of annoying ghosts as she was the living.
He doesn’t explode, though. He gets one sharp word out and then through the rain she gets to watch as he gets his temper under control and asks for her help. And gives her the opportunity to ask her own questions in exchange.
Maurtia feels like she doesn’t get to win very often with her sisters - or at least it is not nearly as satisfying as what she feels right now as she cheerfully replies “Of course.” She won’t lie that she hopes some part of him gets annoyed that she is so ready to accept. As if all that unpleasantness could have been avoided so easily.
“I’m Maurtia, since you haven't gotten around to asking yet. But you can keep being a brooding, mysterious stranger if you’d like. It’s a good look on you.” Look at her - completely and utterly benevolent. So kind and accommodating.
Not accommodating enough to walk towards him, though - and instead, she gestures for him to join her. The flash of her grin through the rain makes it obvious she’s doing this intentionally. “Well? Come along, there’s a lot to see.” She considers her own words for a moment before looking up into the rain, squinting at it as the water continues to run in rivulets across her pearlescent skin. “Unless you'd rather wait for the rain to stop.” This last part, at least, isn't a jab but a genuine offer - she doesn't mind it much, though the rain here is colder than she is used to in Ischia. And though he looks rather aquatic - and despite all her teasing - she doesn't actually want to bother him enough to make him leave.
Adrius is admittedly baffled by Maurtia’s immediate acceptance of his offer. Of course. Of course what? She doesn’t mind that he called her rude? That he can hardly swallow his rage enough for a vague semblance of manners? In another time, he would have been struck down for speaking so petulantly; he nearly flinches when she answers.
The disgruntled man glares at Maurtia once more before growling, “Maurtia. I’m Adrius.” He looks away immediately, desperately attempting to blink away his rankled frustration.
It’s hard for Adrius to admit—even now, in the throes of his agitation—that he feels any form of extreme emotion. That’s why blood rushes to the veins in his cheeks, heating the flesh there uncomfortably. He attempts to gloss over her compliment, black eyes flashing at her in what might appear as panic. Swallowing again, he looks at the muddied earth, feeling mildly defeated as he wonders just what exactly he has gotten himself into.
“I’m coming,” Adrius grumbles begrudgingly, breaking into a trot in an attempt to find Maurtia’s pace. “No, I’m fine if you’re fine,” he answers almost too quickly. In truth, the pattering rain does agitate his aquatic form, but that is one weakness he won’t admit to her. At least not now. And he doesn’t necessarily trust her with any physical disadvantage.
“Why are you doing this, Maurtia?” he asks after a couple of moments of walking. He’s genuinely curious, if a bit nervous, and nearly stumbles over his next steps.
He growls a response to her introduction - and she smiles a little brighter, glad to have a name for the face and first interaction she wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.
Adrius catches up and she is still grinning - her response to him being fine also coming a little quick, but she moves past her own words even as they are still emerging from her mouth “I’m always fine.” It’s not exactly a good thing that this is true, but she will not be thinking about that right now. The rain did make her long tail a little heavy but if she didn’t focus on it, it wasn’t so bad. There is a trick she can do to help, but she’s still wary of making Adrius leave - and she’s not sure yet on where he stands on the ‘summoning a few skeletons to help carry some hair’ thing.
She’s just wondering where she should start on the tour of things Beqanna when Adrius speaks up and she glances at him in surprise - frowning, finally, in her uncertainty. “Doing what? Helping you?” Though she does pause for clarification, in case she’s misunderstood, she goes ahead and answers anyway. “You need help, and even though it probably would’ve been easier to get this rain to stop than for you to finally admit it, I like being able to help when I can.” This truth is easier for her mind to handle, much easier than the ‘I’m always fine’ - and the next truth is easy to - a simple fact. “And I like you, even though you called me rude.” He was endlessly interesting - and certainly entertaining.
To spare him from potentially panicking again from this second compliment, she glances to the forest nearby. “You’re going to have to forgive me for the rather unimaginative names for everything in this area, I swear it’s not my fault. This is the Forest. This shore is new, the sea rose up and swallowed what used to exist here. On the otherside of the forest is the River - and it runs right from the north to the south of the continent, I’m pretty sure.” Potentially? She’s had geography lessons from her mother, ghosts, and her own set of eyes but she was really only mostly sure of what happened once the land turned to mountains. “I live on an island to the west, across this water and past the land you can see there. There's common areas, like this, but mostly Beqanna's a network of different lands, all with their own leaders and whatnot.”
