"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
Now that she has spent more time off of her island home, it is easier to do. Beyza knows she is still apart - still not engrained or interested in many of the happenings of Beqanna as she once was - but this does not bother her. Lost are the days when she would have gone to war because a friend asked her to, or when she would have fought for the protection of Pangea.
Would she bleed to keep Ischia safe? Or would she simply move on to somewhere else?
Hopefully these will not be questions she needs to answer any time soon so she dismisses that line of thought from her mind and such pointless worries fade away. Her eyes are bright and her mind clear as she enters the meadow on a late summer afternoon. The air is hot and light golden, but there’s a breeze that stirs her mane and tail and offers some relief.
She doesn’t mind the heat - she’s become so accustomed to it these last few years and it is a comfort now as she travels in the wider world.
Though there are faces she wouldn't mind seeing, right now she is not seeking any one or thing in particular so she just moves through the long grass at a slow, easy pace - open for whatever might cross her path.
02-24-2022, 09:57 AM (This post was last modified: 02-24-2022, 09:57 AM by lannister.)
you used to tell me we'd turn into something oh, you said life was much better than this
Lannister wonders what a friend might say of him now. If their familiarity would be so welcome that they could utter the words you’ve changed, and Lan might wonder why. Might consider how. Might know he has not changed for better or for worse. He is, to put it simply, different.
It did not take long for him to decipher the intricacies of the waking world. There may be secrets he does not yet know, but he has learned enough of Beqanna’s population to know exactly how he might fit in despite his deep-seated otherness. This alienation is not something Lan resents—not yet, at least. In fact, he mostly embraces it. He wouldn’t feel so strange if he didn’t possess his magic; and he would be nothing without his magic.
Oddly enough, Lannister has found himself to be quite charming. He’s mostly smooth-talking with a tendency to wander off in his head. Companionship isn’t something he often seeks out, but he doesn’t have a hard time finding it when he does. Mostly, Lan remains in his dream-world, where he can twist outcomes to exactly how he desires. Friends, enemies, and lovers down here tend to get in the way of that; and being a generally ambivalent creature, he doesn’t quite understand how strange he has become.
Perhaps Lan is in one of his lonely moods when he spots Beyza. He instantly recognizes her, having always thought about how they were both two bizarre ships passing in the night.
“Beyza!” he calls pleasantly, trotting lazily in her direction. “Keeping warm today, too, I see,” Lan adds with a smile, reaching forward to nudge her shoulder in greeting.
“I’m so pleased to meet you again. Your parrots not keeping you good enough company?”
Beyza’s mind drifts through idle thoughts, which is pleasant for a time but she is glad when they get interrupted - and gladder still when it is someone she knows. He is instantly recognizable as well, brilliant in red and gold, and she pauses in her meandering as he approaches.
“Hello Lannister.” Beyza’s not faking the smile that warms her voice as she greets him. Though she is surprised by the friendly nudge it doesn’t bother her in the slightest. She simply just can’t remember the last time she had the opportunity for a casual touch outside her own family. It is such a small thing to fixate on, though, and probably even strange to do so - so Beyza brushes these thoughts away so they will not distract her.
It relaxes her, though, this friendliness and makes her less inclined to be so careful about her movements. They are friends - his greeting and the ease of her warmth suggests - and Beyza doesn’t pretend to be anything else other than her strange self for her friends (however few they are lately).
So though she does not remember to blink at all, the small laugh that his question about the parrots inspires is genuine. “The parrots aren’t as entertaining as they once were. I didn’t think I’d get bored in paradise but I seem to have found a way.” Her daughters were all grown and finding ways to entertain themselves, the refugees from Tephra’s reign of nightmares had dispersed once more, and there was only so much practice she could do with her magic to fill up the time.
But here was someone interesting before her, already chasing away the boredom. “It’s good to see you again - what have you been up to?”How have you been may be the more polite question to ask but Beyza remembers how strong her curiosity had been about him the first time they had met and it wastes no time in stirring up once again.
03-09-2022, 12:08 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2022, 12:08 PM by lannister.)
you used to tell me we'd turn into something oh, you said life was much better than this
It's an odd sensation, not feeling fear or anger or love in the way that most creatures do. Lannister has mostly muted his emotions unintentionally, having never learned how exactly to regulate them. When he first arrived in Beqanna, every single feeling nearly killed him. He had no control of himself, from his actions to his thoughts. When Lan felt as if he could no longer take it, when his dreams were his only respite, he swore he would never let his emotions control him ever again. Of course, he took that thought to an extreme; but what can one expect from a man raised almost entirely isolated?
Though Lannister does feel a small, genuine warmth when Beyza smiles at him. A heat he doesn't quite mind, one pleasant and mild enough that he allows it to burn in the pit of his chest. He smiles widely back at her, gray eyes crinkling with pleasure. A cool breeze ruffles and lifts Lan's mane, so he shakes it out with, "Paradise is subjective, yes?" That's one of the most important things Lannister has learned from dream-hopping: everything - he means absolutely everything - is subjective within another mind. The color blue of the sky, the vibrant smell of summer, the simple concept of sharing to the complex thought of death. Everything is able to be perceived differently.
Perhaps that is why he does not allow himself his own emotions: Lannister cannot find his own truth. At least with Beyza, he has found a truth in the comfort of a friend.
"Dreaming," he answers smoothly, mouth twisting into a sly grin. "My own dreams and everyone else's, too," he adds as an afterthought, gaze straying to the brilliant sky above.
"Do you often dream, Beyza?" he asks, his curiosity on the cusp of genuine. "I can create whole worlds out of dreams."
His comment about paradise being subjective earns a small nod and a grin. “True enough.” Her version of paradise now did not match what it had once been when she was younger, after all. When death and darkness had been the utter ideal world, and she the lone beacon of light. She brushes these thoughts away, though - uncomfortable, as always, in remembering that past self and many of the things involved.
Better to focus on the present - on the lovely face speaking to her with a sly grin about dreams. It is so easy to capture her attention, and dreams are a subject she rarely speaks about, except with her daughters when they were young. Swapping stories and listening to the worlds they dream up and then half-remember in the misty morning light.
She is already incredibly curious about what sort of worlds Lannister creates - and how he is able to go into other dreams. Her attention doesn’t drift from him, those bright white eyes keen as though she might be able to puzzle out the answers to her questions before he tells her.
But then - she thinks she’d like him to show her instead of diving in and finding herself.
“Nearly every night.” She answers his question honestly and does not bother to hide or minimize her interest when she continues. “Will you show me what you can create? I'd like to see.”
