"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
Nemeon’s bitterness comes in cycles. There will occasionally be nights where he wakes up just happy to be breathing again, where he finds beauty in the twilight hours that he is stuck among and the solitary life it seems to foster. Those nights he’ll watch the fireflies, tilt his horned head upwards to count how many shooting stars he can see. He’ll revel in the life that appears at night - though there is no way for him to know how it differs from what happens during the day.
It is all too easy to sulk - the unfairness of not being able to witness daylight, except as imitated by a friend - and the pressing knowledge that his very existence is poisonous.
Tonight, when his body changes from stone into flesh, Nemeon feels the crushing weight of loneliness.
He wants this to be a night where he finds Anaise again, or maybe his twin sister. Or even his reclusive mother. Anything, anyone, to ease the near-silence of the night.
He had been deeper into the forest when dawn had come, some instinct encouraging him to find a quiet spot for his statue-self to rest during the day. Every part of him itches to go to where the trees are sparser now, from his wings that are longing to stretch to the ache in his heart just wanting to find someone to talk to.
Nemeon lingers just for a second, as though checking to see whether this desire to be social is fleeting, but it just continues to compress and then finally the young stallion is moving among the shadows - golden eyes bright and alert for signs of any one else.
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
02-03-2022, 12:48 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2022, 02:45 PM by Link.)
Could you help me push aside all that I have left behind
With nowhere else to go and no clear path of direction to take, he remains in the Forest and it seems to suit him fine. He steers clear of the darker places of the woods, whispery shadowed areas that remind him of certain places in Sylva, and sticks to the lighter parts of the trees where birds still sing and some light filters through. It’s cold sometimes, even with the return of summer, but it bothers him little. Not when he can easily shift into the warm layers of black and white fur and curl into a ball, nestled between strong limbs.
He spends most of his time in his shifted state, where he always feels most comfortable. It allows him to avoid most predators that lurk in this common land and it permits him to escape to places where most can’t even go. Danger is still a foreign concept to the young stallion who has yet to need his claws and sharp teeth for anything else but climbing and scratching annoying itches. Tonight he lounges in the crook of one of the taller trees that breaks through the canopy, exposing a wide view over most of the forest and beyond. This has become one of his favorite places to be, where he usually beds down for the night.
Yet sleep alludes him.
Panda paws dangle over the edge precariously, kicking back and forth over the bough he is settled on, leaning back against the rough bark of the oak. From here he can see the remains of Loess, the submerged kingdom he had been born in. The rest of the South is hidden beneath the waves and he sighs softly, finding the melancholy of missing his family is especially strong today. Usually he can stave it off, keep himself occupied with all there is to see in the Forest and beyond. His hope is still a bright thing, a candle that refuses to flicker out. Still, on clear starry nights like tonight, he finds himself wishing that Lillibet was here to share the same view. That if he tumbled off the ledge, a polar bear would be there to catch him. He wishes he could wrap his neck around Oceane one last time and tell her he was sorry for all the times he had snuck off and caused them to fret. He understands what that feels like now, this gnawing worry that comes and goes like the ebb and flow of the sea in the distance.
So many wishes but none of them are granted, he is not his mother.
A glimmer of gold below catches his flecked gaze and he welcomes the distraction, wondering what could be moving in the night that is so bright. Curiosity gets the best of him as it usually does and he begins his ungraceful descent back to the forest floor. Whatever it is that's moving through the trees is headed in his direction and he forgets that there are dangerous things that prowl here, too intrigued to see what it could be that the last thing he is thinking of is stealth. It’s never been his strong suit anyways.
He lands in a heap of ebony and ivory fur but when he stands the bear has already pulled back and he is shaking dirt from his lavender coat, the gold markings around his knees and at the base of his neck flickering as he exudes a hazy lilac glow. When he looks up, there is an easy grin on his pale mouth and he takes in the cracked appearance of the stranger he had landed before. Warm russet eyes widen as he takes in the wings, the tarnished cracks etched into his body, his stone coloring. “That’s so…. cool!” He enthuses, having never seen anyone that looks like him before. "Are you like... made of rock or something?"
All of Ledger’s constant warnings and lectures on caution over everything fly out the window as he extends his muzzle to the other in greeting, simply happy to be distracted by meeting someone new. "Oh I'm Link, who are you?"
02-11-2022, 05:51 PM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2022, 03:32 PM by Nemeon.)
Although he had been hoping for company, there’s nothing short of surprise with how it chooses to manifest itself. A creature he’s never seen - some sort of blob of white and black fur - drops out of a nearby tree and startles the dark grey gargoyle into stopping in his tracks. He’s never seen a shapeshifter before - only has the experience of Anaise turning into the sun and then himself - so his surprise doubles when the fuzzy creature becomes a stallion about his age.
His shock slows his reactions, those carefully honed things that he’s been so careful about, and before he knows it the pale purple stallion is introducing himself and then reaching out in greeting. It takes actual physical contact to jumpstart Nemeon’s brain into actually working. He attempts to stumble backwards, but they are in a forest. There’s no where to go. Even if the trees are a little sparser here than where he had begun his journey tonight, his hip collides with a branch as he tries to move.
Fear pumps loudly through his veins, reminding him that he is very much not stone at the moment. His wings unfurl a little but there is nowhere for them to go either, they’re just held out a little from his body in an effort to enforce a tiny bit of space.
But his golden eyes don’t dare look away from the other, afraid to see any signs of discomfort. “I uh…” Nemeon isn’t sure what to say - answer the questions asked or explain why he had tried to get away. Or maybe he should just leave?
There’s just such an easy smile on Link’s face, Nemeon could not stomach the idea of leaving and not knowing if he had left behind sickness for such a kind stranger. “I’m…” His second attempt at figuring out what to say gets nowhere either so he swallows, and hopes that the stinging he can feel on his back isn’t torn flesh.
When he does manage to speak, it’s not the ‘hey don’t touch me I might make your hair fall out and your stomach twist in painful nots’ warning that it should be. He’s still recovering from the 0 to 100 surprise night that is happening. “I’m only stone sometimes.” An apology would be in order too, but it’s clear from his wide golden eyes he’s still in a bit of shock. He’ll get there eventually, for now he just operates on auto-pilot and that means only answering the questions asked. “And uh, I’m Nemeon.”
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
Could you help me push aside all that I have left behind
The strangers reaction is picked up swiftly enough that the lilac stallion pauses in his greeting and is quick to pull back… But not before his muzzle barely grazes the other for a split second. A thin trickle of blood drips from his left nostril as his smile fades slightly, a sudden wave of nausea overcoming him. Odd, he had been fine a second ago. Perhaps he had dropped a little too carelessly out of the tree this time. He gives a little shake of his head as if that might settle his unexpected overactive stomach, not realizing he was also actively bleeding, and sends a few crimson droplets to fly around him.
The stranger seems uncomfortable and so Link tries to find his smile again, not wanting the other to be uneasy or think him weird or strange. “I must have eaten something off.” He says with a small laugh that doesn’t last long as it sends a new ripe wave of queasiness to stir in his insides. The gold-flecks of his warm brown eyes dims slightly as he meets the wide golden gaze of the other who, much to his relief, beings to speak and gives him a chance to try and steady himself. Of course that doesn’t last long, not when Nemeon mentions he turns to stone. “Do you really turn to stone?” He asks curiously, momentarily forgetting the choppy sea in his belly. “Are you like…. Cursed or something?” Had the grey and gold stallion done something offensive to receive such a sentence? Despite the common sense that tells him that maybe Nemeon is someone to be wary of, he just finds himself more intrigued.
Dried blood stains his nostril as the bleed begins to clot and for a moment he feels normal again. Enough so to bring a little light back into his gaze as he takes in how the other is pressed back against the trees. As if he was something scary. Amusement dances across his features as he gives a little laugh. “You don’t have to stand all the way over there, I swear I don’t bite.” He says kindly, hoping he hadn’t somehow ruined the opportunity to make an interesting new friend. He figures all hope is lost when only seconds later he proceeds to vomit up the dinner he had foraged earlier, unable to fight the rolling sickness in his abdomen any longer.
The autopilot and shock only last long enough for the effect of his presence to start affecting his company. Nemeon watches in horror as a thin trickle of blood begins to drip from Link’s nose. While there is probably any number of things that could have caused it, the most obvious one is the likely source. That had been where contact had been made, after all. And Nemeon had been slow and stupid and shocked enough not to move away fast enough.
His own stomach twists when Link tries to laugh off the queasiness he must be feeling and Nemeon finally successfully angles himself enough to take another step backwards, now squeezing his wings tightly against his side so that he takes up as little room as possible.
With space between them, Link’s smile seems to brighten but Nemeon’s remains absent. He is still staring at the blood, still horrified and yet still somehow not running away as he should. “Cursed is a good word for it.” He mutters and is about to answer the stone question - or come up with a reason to flee further despite the insistence that Link doesn’t bite - when the lavender stallion surprises him by vomiting.
Fear grips him and Nemeon barely feels like he’s breathing as he pushes back further, snapping a few branches in his insistence for them to let him pass.
Did he know any healers he could send over? Perhaps if he found Anaise he could wish her the ability to help Link.
Since he does not know where she is at this exact moment, Nemeon hopes all this could-have-been-a-friend needs is more and more space.
“You… you’ll feel better if you stay away from me.” His voice is quiet and strained with his guilt.
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
Could you help me push aside all that I have left behind
It dawns on him that this is the first time meeting someone new has disrupted in a rather chaotic manner. If he wasn’t feeling so embarrassed and off, he would find that perspective rather interesting and perhaps amusing. Instead his own face twists into something that mirrors Nemeon’s shock at the way his stomach has betrayed him. It doesn’t cross his mind at all that whatever is currently effecting him has to do with the horrified stallion that is trying so hard to put space between them, despite the mutters of being Cursed right before he had upchucked everywhere.
Feeling rather better now that his gastric contents were no longer rumbling angrily inside of him and spewed on the forest floor, he side steps the mess gingerly and looks at the stone man with a rather helpless and embarrassed smile. He has no idea how to fix this, how to get the train back on the tracks. The winged stallion’s strained words only add confusion to his thoughts and he tries desperately to salvage the situation, taking his warning in a completely different way.
“I swear I won’t get sick on you.” He says uncertainly but finds that the words strengthen a bit at the end as he confirms that yes, he does feel that quiet stillness that comes after nauseous expulsions. “I’m really sorry.” He says earnestly, not trying to come closer to the other who so obviously wants the distance between them and his shoulders sag slightly as mortification swoops back in like a hawk. “That’s never happened before.” He adds quietly, hoping Nemeon wasn’t about to go tell everyone he met that Link had a nasty habit of being sick when having a conversation. “You won’t…”
He hesitates, glancing at the other with humility. “You won’t tell anyone will you?”
Nemeon really does not know what to do - Link seems so earnest, so nice, and completely oblivious to the warnings that the grey stallion is attempting to give. Would it be easier to admit this fault of his openly or to find a way to get Link to leave? Rudeness does not come naturally to Nemeon and he does not even know where to start to try to chase the other boy away.
But neither can he find a way to say ‘if you’d like the hair to stay on your body you really, really should leave’.
The best option would be for Nemeon himself to leave - he just doesn’t do that either. It is hard to walk away from a conversation when they are so few and far between - when he spends his days encased in a silent stone tomb and now that he is flesh and blood again he does not wish for quiet.
Now he thinks that the way Anaise had read his thoughts made things easier - she had just known, to some extent, without him having to actually say the words out loud. He wants to toss those thoughts at Link now, anything to avoid that conversation or see that well-deserved look of betrayal.
Link’s only concern is that Nemeon does not tell anyone about the impressive upheaval and instead of everything else that he should be saying or doing - he is quick to reassure. “Of course not.” Nemeon glances around, like the trees will give him some direction on what to do - and, in a strange way, they do. “Let’s… um. Let’s go somewhere where there’s a little more space, ok?” Even if Link just thinks it is to get away from the stench of the sick, or to give them both a bit of air, it will hopefully still have the same effect. Link will feel better and maybe he just does not need to know that it’s because Nemeon will be standing a little further away.
NEMEON
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
Could you help me push aside all that I have left behind
It’s not in the lilac stallion’s nature to be unkind. Even when faced with rudeness, it comes off as a friendship challenge. Those that hurt the most are usually mean and the ones that need the kindness even more. It doesn’t occur to him that sometimes company is just not wanted or that others might prefer solitude for a variety of reasons. Or in this case, it would be in his best interest... Meant to protect him.
However, Nemeon isn’t unkind despite the fact that he had made quite a mess of a first impression. The cracked stallion is quick to reassure him and Link smiles at his new friend for that’s what they are now. How could they not be, sharing a secret between them. It’s only solidified when the other offers an escape route for him (in reality, for the both of them) and he nods quickly in acceptance of this plan.
“Good idea.” He says with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and glances in the direction to where the meadow lays. Lots of fresh air and pretty stars to see, no better place to get to know his new companion and put what had just happened behind him. Thinking the other stallion may still be wary of his sickness, he gives the other the desired space he seeks as they head in that direction.
Something Nemeon had said before he had gotten so ill comes back to him now as the embarrassment begins to settle and fade. “Why aren’t you stone right now? How does it work?” His enthusiasm rebuilds as they leave the scene of chaos behind them, curiosity overriding the common sense that maybe this is a sore subject for his cursed friend. One that he might not be comfortable talking about. Still, it's not every day you meet someone who can do such a thing.
