"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
Don't look back, nothing left to see I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
It’s easy to find her when one knows where to look.
It won’t be in the heart of the forest or even the outskirts that border the newest oceanfront property. He knows he will find her near Nerine, close to her brother. He has every intention of meeting with Reave (if the bone-clad stallion doesn’t beat him to the punch first) but it’s not the North’s newest King that he wants today.
The rain has been unrelenting since winter had come and the gold glint that adorns his handsome features is somehow not lost beneath the shag of his seasonal coat. Another perk of being Fae, one of many. The sky above is gray and melancholy and he halts when he spots her in the distance, a golden sun that shines from the clouds.
The Dark Prince pauses for a moment, halting some distance from her as his crimson gaze watches her carefully.
So much had changed.
Once, he would have moved mountains for Aela. He would have set a viper to the throats of all those she despised and plotted against, if she had asked him to. She hadn’t. Instead she had broken his heart. Funny enough, he hadn’t hated her for it. Not the way he should have. It makes sense now of course, she couldn’t truly break what hadn’t belonged to her in the first place. It had hurt though, back then. When he hadn’t known better.
Aela was beautiful in so many ways. Her deceitfulness, her manipulation, her hunger for chaos. Works of art. He could still appreciate that about her too amongst the many mysteries that still evaded him when it comes to what makes Arla... Aela. If she told him now how she had once plotted to kill him, he would have simply laughed. Amused. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least nor would he be foolish to think she wouldn’t still consider it now if it might benefit her.
He knows she wouldn’t be foolish either. That surely she is aware that he wouldn’t hesitate to curl his scales around her neck if she threatened that which he cared most for. No matter the fondness he still has for her, ex-lover and friend, he would not think twice in destroying her if her plans shifted against his mate. Against him.
What does elude him is why she agreed to this to begin with. Why she agreed, suggested even, on coming here. Why she didn’t just throw her lot in with Reave entirely, the two would make a powerful pair. It’s what brings him out into the drizzle looking for her, to get to the heart of her intentions. A conversation in private, without Cheri.
“Aela.” His low baritone calling to her, breaking through the gentle patter of rain as his broad frame moves closer towards her. Dark red eyes finding the familiar hue of blue, curious as to what he might find there.
03-12-2022, 09:54 PM (This post was last modified: 03-12-2022, 09:55 PM by Aela.)
The sky is gray and melancholy and Aela curses it for being a Northern sky.
That was a particular favorite shade of this place. Always dull, always gray. Being in Nerine helps that. The cave that she has taken residence in reminds her of the one that Heartfire once claimed and any semblance between her and her (great)-grandmother is a positive one to Aela. The open moorlands are at least not the suffocating forest to the south of her and that is just one more thing that brightens the mood of the lovely palomino.
She feels his gaze on her long before Obscene ever steps out.
It was familiar, and despite so much that had changed since they lost the Pampas, Aela was glad that some things hadn’t turned upside-down.
Feeling the intensity of that crimson-eyed gaze, the striped mare glances towards the direction that the statuesque Prince approaches from. Aela smiles, expectant. She is rarely caught off guard. (If she had known that he was harboring such thwarting thoughts about the conversation Aela once had with Skandar, she, too, would have laughed. She can no more change what she is than Obscene can lie.)
When the former Prince comes striding ahead, Aela shifts her stance. The smaller mare even takes a step forward, tilting her head curiously while wearing that famously coy smile. For a moment, it would seem not much had changed at all.
"Obscene,” she nearly hums the words, and considers how fun it might be to toy with his emotions. It would be easy enough to do, and she was in the mood for a bit of fun. But her son still remains missing, and Aela still imagines what she had once dreamed of for the Pampas: how Magic might be constructed and deconstructed, pulled apart and then put back together. Cheri still tempted her with that.
Glancing up from beneath her thick lashes, Aela asks (feeling rather magnanimous despite the cold rain), "What can I do for you?"
Don't look back, nothing left to see I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
He could almost grin at the familiarity that plays out before him. Instead he smirks, something that fits the memories they act out between them as she goes to meet him, and the red of his eyes flash with amusement. She is still a stunning creature, rain clinging to her tarnished coat, and a ghost of a smile finds his mouth when he catches the constellation he remembered engraved upon her. Much like the one shining across his own chest. “Much, I hope.” He rumbles, a flicker of mischief glinting in the depths of his fiery gaze.
“I would see that you have your old position back, if you want it.” He asks first, tilting his head slightly as rain clings to the gold of his cheek, slides down the oily length of his broad neck. Giving a slight shake to his frizzing black and gold mane, he finally grins at her. “Cheri will be Champion. And if we can find Wherewolf, I’d have our diplomatic babysitter back as well.” Get the band back together, so to speak. They had been doing well before it all had gone, literally, South. It had worked out well once, perhaps it could again. Even with new players on the map.
It’s strange, this little tribe they have formed. Still, they had started as a trio of misfits to begin with. Surely it was just one mark in a long line of strange things to come. His tone changes, his expression smoothing as he searches the delicate lines of her face. “I’m sorry. For the Pampas. Fyr. All of it.” He doesn’t give her his excuses, knowing they will be wasted words on her. She would never understand his reasons anyway. “I have an idea and I wonder if you might be interested. Might even convince you into forgiving me?” He murmurs beneath the distant rumble of thunder and looks at her expectantly, that smirk lingering across his dark lips.
03-18-2022, 07:20 PM (This post was last modified: 03-18-2022, 07:22 PM by Aela.)
At first, Aela doesn’t give much away.
She comes to a stop before him, tilting up that lovely visage in a way she has done before him a thousand times before, and peers up at the large brute from beneath her dark lashes. It’s a look that she has given him (and plenty of other poor souls) that promises everything, and yet Obscene will know her well enough to know that it promises nothing that is not to her benefit.
There is a nod when he mentions restoring her to her old position. It is the least he can do, after she had discovered them and brought them up to speed on Beqanna’s current political state. It is the least that he can offer her, since their only choice at the time had been Taiga. It’s damp rain clings to her coat and weighs down her pale mane, and yet nothing about the Northern forest can do anything to take away her loveliness.
It will do nothing to take away her determination that their machinations will take root here.
Aela listens - a golden ear flicked in his direction - as he explains his other plans for Taiga. Cheri will be Champion. (Interesting title for a consort, she thinks, but keeps that thought to herself. A testament to her newfound patience where it concerns the Taiga.)
"Wherewolf will want more than just a position,” Aela says, revealing that she had found the former Pampiian Lord. She doubted that a rank would be enough to entice him back to the North. A deep hatred of it was something that she and her half-brother had in common. "He will want knowledge of his son,” she states, a thread that it seemed most of the residents of the former Flower Court shared. "And if we have any information on the whereabouts of his mother,” Aela continues, "that might be enough to convince him to stay for a time.”
Her lips press together, forming a single line of doubt.
But Obscene keeps speaking, bringing forward an apology. He doesn't offer some paltry excuse, and for that, Aela looks consideringly at him. He speaks of forgiveness, but Aela's mind is already on their future. Not the past nor the mistakes that were made there. "Tell me what you have in mind," she begins, and the palomino finally begins to move ahead, walking forward with a suggestive sway of her hip (some things may change but Aela's coy nature has not). Glancing behind her, her blue eyes seek out his fiery gaze, ignoring the distant tremor of thunder warning in the distance. "And perhaps I can be convinced to share a few things."
Starting with this, "I accept your apology." The lithe mare began to walk, already expecting the gold-and-black stallion to move alongside her. "But don't do it often, Obscene. It is beneath you to apologize."
Don't look back, nothing left to see I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
It is interesting, this new paternal side of Wherewolf that he keeps hearing so much about. Of course, he is not one to talk or judge… Being in much the same boat as the former “diplomat.” There is only a flash in the depths of red at the news of finding the grumpy pegasus, only slightly annoyed that he was just finding this out now. Not missing Aela’s doubt that presses her lips together, he tilts his head at her. “Is he worth all the trouble?” Comes his quiet question, scrutinizing her intently.
The Seneschal and her brothers strange relationship had always been a source of amusement and speculation to the Dark Fae stallion. It was no secret, to him at least, that Aela only deigned herself to fraternize with those she thought worth the effort. That brought something of worth to her. Where did Wherewolf exactly land in those plans? He has always been curious.
Finding Wherewolf’s son and mother, finding his own lost boy, finding Fyr, not to mention Cheri’s subjects in Loess and her lost royalty of Sylva… It seems a daunting and endless list. And yet if they could find them all and bring them here into the woods… It could be a start to something. Something he would need if his own plans were to come to fruition. Speaking of those plans..
Despite the rain soaking into his coat and curling his mane against his neck, the Fae stallion allows a brief smile to flit across his dark mouth as she moves away, accepting his apology. As for her last words, the smirk returns and he says nothing as he takes a few strides and falls in line beside her. He had no desire to make it a habit and would never offer one if it wasn’t deserved.
“I think we are all agreed that Taiga isn’t our end game.” He finally says after a brief respite of silence, ambling through the misty rain as if it was a bright sunny day and they were out for an enjoyable nature walk. “What if Tephra was?” He finally says, looking over at her with his usual unreadable expression.
03-27-2022, 12:41 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2022, 12:43 PM by Aela.)
Had they been speaking more in depth of Wherewolf, Aela would have argued that it was nothing paternal that drove her half-brother. It was an obsession; a fixation that seemed (to Aela) a borderline madness. But she was not here to make excuses or understand the pegasus’ frame of mind. All that concerned her was that the brutish stallion was of use to her - to their - cause and she wouldn’t allow him to slip away from it so easily.
”Have you any other beasts that can double or triple themselves?” Aela questions him. Her blue eyes moved away from his then, glancing out towards the shadows. There were supposedly others in Taiga, and while it was in their favor that they seemingly hadn’t opposed Obscene’s rule, the quiet could only aid them in so much. Werewolf was an asset that they couldn’t afford to lose.
They needed numbers - those with strong gifts and traits - to fill their ranks again.
She begins to move forward, listening to the cacophony of sounds as the rain continues to fall, as they stroll over the leaf litter, as they walk in this forest that has continued to resist the test of time, despite Aela’s wishes that it wouldn’t. Carnage had supposedly drowned this forest before, and the palomino frowns, wondering what would have compelled the Dark God to bring it back. Her ear flicks absent-mindedly towards Obscene, listening as he speaks of future plans and goals. It is no secret that he has always wanted Tephra; the onyx-and-gold beast had always made it sound like something of a birthright.
His father had once ruled there, so it doesn’t surprise her that Obscene would want to press his own claim.
The thought of leaving the Taiga behind them certainly sounds appealing.
But Aela - as always - has other thoughts as well.
Think bigger, the slender palomino wills into his mind. The memories of the South sinking, of nearly drowning, plays over and over again. Aela doesn’t relent - making it feel as they are both momentarily trapped beneath the sea, unable to reach the surface. Cheri had drained her powers when they had used them to locate Fyr, but it is the determination from that encounter that powers her for this one. The images vanish and the palomino pushes another thought into Obscene’s skull. What good is Tephra to us if it sinks as well? Perhaps the Mountain decides to strike down the East, or reduce this very forest to ash.
When the quiet settles between them both again, Aela glances consideringly at the Taigan leader.
What happens when a soul summoner channels with a storm-maker? she wonders to him, trying to lead him down her current train of thoughts. Could they raise a storm fueled by a raging soul? What happens when a fire-starter and ice-wielder come together? Could they make a flame so cold that it burns? Her head tilts towards his, trying to gauge the reaction in his fiery gaze.
Kingdoms would come and go; they would always ebb and flow like a tide.
But Magic, to understand its laws and limits, what better path is there for Immortals who have nothing but time?
Don't look back, nothing left to see I can feel you though, wake me from this dreamin
As always, Aela seems to sum up her thoughts with perfect and brunt precision. For a moment his smirk slips into a loose grin at her hypothetical question. “Fair enough.” He says with a roll of his glittering shoulder, her point easy enough to read. If she thought he was worth the trouble then he probably was. “Any leads on where we might find what he’s looking for? Or anyone worth ‘convincing’ to our side?” He asks quietly, his piercing red gaze focused purely on her. This was her wheelhouse after all, Aela had always been well-versed in what was going on in the world. A secret talent that was just as impressive as her magic.
His question falls unanswered in the air to those that may be eavesdropping. It is only a subtle flick of a pointed ear that gives away her voice in his head, something he had forgotten she could do. Think bigger she wills and a corner of his mouth pulls down in a slight frown. The memories of almost drowning, their home splitting apart, making him gaze at her with renewed intensity as he grits his teeth against the onslaught of what she had gone through. Reviving the guilt that was always simmering just beneath his scales.
Her voice wraps around his head and he listens. He understands the path she is trying to lead him down. It’s not one that he is entirely opposed to despite his misgivings on magic to begin with. However…
Uncertainly, he begins to respond back to her in his own head. Wondering if she can find the words and pluck them for her own. “There is safety in titles. In kingdoms.” A pointed look that follows, hoping she catches the drift of his meaning. There was much more wiggle room to work with in the confines of something that was theirs. She is right, that at any moment the lands could rise and fall on the whims of a god. It did little to dissuade him on what he felt he deserved. What rightfully belonged to him. “Tephra is a starting point. I would find a way to raise the South from the sea. There are many things I would do… Including exploring these… magics.” He pauses, this time tilting his own head down at her. Considering.
It is a risk to expose his biggest secret to her, a master manipulator. It is one that he decides is worth it. He begins to recall the little memories he can gather from when he awakens after the Serpent takes over. Covered in blood and gore, unable to recall what had happened. He brings memory after memory of the sensation that slithers in his gut, that twists around his insides, that feeling of losing control. Most Immortals didn’t have an expiration date but he feels as if he does. If time was an issue, he meant to make the most of what he had left. He looks at her and the tight lipped smile he gives her speaks of many things. “I’ll support you in this if you support me in mine.” Is what he finally thinks. Her reasons, his reasons. Her dreams, his dreams.
There is one other thing and it pertains to a certain black and green jeweled mare. “Where does she fit in these plans of yours?”
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}
