"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
It had been a few days ago that Gryffen had come to collect him, to guide him away from the dark corner of the Chamber that had been his home these past few years. Even though he has never left the borders the place seemed entirely different from the Chamber that he knew. The darkness was still the same, both the sunlight and the moonlight didn’t reach his eyes. The differences in the smells and scents was most prominent to the young greying male. He had spent his life alone, only sometimes smelling the lingering scent of a Chamber horse that had passed by his hiding place.
But now, now things were different. To Brynmor it had come as a surprise. He has always known that Gryffen would come to collect him again, but he had honestly thought that the pale stallion would’ve made him wait longer. His steps are slow as he tries to explore his new living area, sometimes almost bumping into trees or stumbling across rocks that are hidden underneath the snow – not that he knew how the snow looked like. Not being able to rely on sight Brynmor has learned how to use his other senses to navigate around and as long as his steps were calm he did a pretty good job. He would never be able to trot or gallop around, or to jump across obstacles – unless some drastic change would happen to him.
The smell of something burning makes his body freeze. At the same he thought of the fire as something bad – after all, that’s a normal reaction to a fire – but at the same time it actually felt like it was okay, like it belonged there and was in harmony with it’s surroundings. Slowly he moved closer, carefully to not get too close, trying to use all his senses to understand what’s going on. How was it possible to have a fire burning while everything else was covered in snow?
The fire is comforting. Shaytan is bruised and terribly, terribly sore from the Gates shenanigans, owing mostly to her own ineptitude at… well, much of anything. Here, the spotted bunny blood-drinker rests, curled up by the flickering flame of the half-grown tree. There is no snow within a good fifteen feet circumference of their special thing, and it is within that immediate area that she lies. It’s comforting and mesmerizing all at once. Brynmor is right to describe it as in harmony with its surroundings. It’s very Moses like; Moses and the Burning Bush, minus the snakes and make that bush a little bit taller…
Anyway. Shaytan is lounging quietly by the tree when an unknown stallion slowly picks his way through the trees towards them. Like a moth to a flame, she thinks. But he doesn’t acknowledge her (almost as if he doesn’t see her – imagine that!), and so Shaytan peers at him suspiciously. She can’t see the milky white of his eyes, so she demands impetuously (but not loudly) “Who are you?” Some other captive (they should not be near the tree!), a new Chamberling?
It might almost be as if the flames themselves were talking, if the stranger couldn’t see her.
He stops walking as he has left the snow behind him, trying to move even closer would be too dangerous with the lack of sight. His ears are tipped forwards in the direction of the burning tree as he takes notice of the lack of snow. It means that he is close to the fire – maybe even too close – but he only feels a comfortable warmth from the fire and not a burning sensation, so he concludes that he should be safe here. Even though the situation is still strange to him his body visibly relaxes, Brynmor enjoys the heath on his skin. It was something he had never felt before, nothing in his little ‘prison’ could provide him of warmth.
It’s her voice that betrays her. Instantly his eyes turn around and focus on the sound she makes. His sensitive hearing picks up the softest breaths and thus it isn’t hard for him to guess where she stands. Brynmor snorts softly, his head and empty gaze moving in her direction. Now his ears are turned back, not yet hostile, but neither does he want to look too friendly. She has demanded him for his name, without naming her own and as a stranger to etiquette he can’t help it but to blurt out a cold ”who’s asking?” The time the greying stallion had spent around others wasn’t worth counting, too soon after his birth he had been put away in a dark corner of the kingdom without anybody to interact with. Besides his mother – who he had only been around for approximately an hour – and Gryffen this was the first horse he met and actually spoke to, so who could be blaming him for his lack of mannerism?
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
He really doesn’t need to worry about mannerisms. This is Shaytan we’re talking about. She doesn’t worry about them either. She probably should, but no one questions the crazy girl and no one cares that she doesn’t have manners, so why should she ever learn any? The bunnies don’t care. What would she say to them anyway? Oh dear, ever so sorry that I’m going to crush your skull and drink your blood? Would that make her any better? No, then she’d just be the crazy girl who’s now +2 wacko points for talking to her victims, who CLEARLY can’t speak in the first place.
So the roundabout thing that you should take away from this is that Brynmor is in good company with his less than polished manners.
He swivels to face her, and now she can see the unseeing eyes and the way that his ears flicker about to try and narrow in on her position. Shaytan has never met a blind pony before, so she stares unabashedly at him, unaware that he cannot see her doing this. “A captain of the Chamber,” she manages to reply, though the thought of it is funny enough. What has she done to deserve this? Nothing but steal an old man from the Tundra and wander around aimlessly. If this is a sign of Straia’s love, she’ll bask in it. She’ll bathe in it. She’ll be whatever her beautiful Queen wants her to be. And then, because she is rude and impulsive and says what she wants to say, Shaytan speaks again. “What’s with your eyes?”
If he could see, he would probably ask her what’s with the fanged bunny on your chest? But he can’t, and so some things are better left unanswered.
As long as she stays silent and doesn’t move he can’t pick up her reaction on his words. Simply because Brynmor can’t see he misses the look upon her face, all he can do is listen for any kind of movement or a verbally spoken reply. And she finally does, but before the greying male can reply himself the voice in his head cuts him off. ”Ooh, a captain. That should mean she has some importance here –whatever the Chamber might be.””Oh shut up, Gryffen spoke about the Chamber, remember” he harshly murmurs out loud in an reaction to the voice in his head, not at all aware that the voice was only in his head and didn’t really exist. ”Your title is unknown to me” is what he replies to the spotted mare, tilting his head a little to the side as he speaks.
This time it’s Brynmor’s turn to look up strangely, surprised even. He snorts loudly, turning his head a little to the side to turn one of his eyes directly in her sight – or at least, he thinks he aims right in her direction. Didn’t she see it or didn’t she want to see it? ”I’m blind” he curtly states as a grimace pulls on his lips. ”I can’t see” he ads to clarify his words. If she couldn’t see it like Gryffen had, she might need some extra explanation. As he lets his words settle in her mind he can’t stop his dark ear from turning towards the fire, not yet at ease with the danger he couldn’t see. Meanwhile he was silently listening to the voice in his head, ranting about the mare’s stupid question. Sometimes mumbling a soft answer to agree or disagree with it.
"Through your secret."
OOC: Italic is what the voice in his head says and coloured is what Brynmor says out loud.
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
OH and they think Shay is a little out of sorts? The stallion speaks to no one and she giggles, and then cuts herself off. Only for a second or two, because she is quick to start giggling again. Ahahahahaha. Now there are two crazies here, and what is the poor Chamber to do? And then she stops abruptly, a sobering thought quelling all little bubbles of amusement. Oh. Oh what if Straia liked crazy, and that was why she liked Shaytan. Her lips purse together as she turns her head and narrows his eyes, as if straining could help her see him better.
But then he snaps and oh, she does not like that. Everyone thinks her useless and she is a point, but not this one - not a complete stranger. Was it that Gryffen? The white one, who kept toting around his broken playthings as if they were trophies worthy of commendation. She doesn’t know what rank he holds, she doesn’t care. Shaytan snaps her teeth in response to the stallions comment about her title. “Doesn’t matter! I don’t know you. Why are you by my tree?”
Yes, yes, her tree. He doesn’t know her, so she can claim it. Who better than the obsessive (borderling compulsive) lady to guard the tree? The fire reminds her of things she should cower in fear from. Of Nerissa and toy boxes and other very impossible things. And so she downgrades it to a vivid dream, and conveniently forgets about the bunny on her chest. Or if asked, why, she was born with it? It is fate. “Blind?” She snorts in amusement. Oh yes, now she knows why he is here. It all makes sense now! Unfortunately, none of that sense will work in his favor.
“You must be one of Gryffen’s pets.” There is thinly veiled disapproval in her voice. Shaytan is of the opinion that they should only bring the strong into the Chamber (again, conveniently forgetting that she should be considered a weaker link). His pets and prisoners litter the kingdom. It’s disgusting. Nevermind that she is something like Straia’s pet. Or she would be, if given the chance. Oh, to be a raven that perches on her shoulder!
Her sudden burst of joy is something he cannot understand. As he snorts loudly Brynmor’s ears turn towards his neck. ’She’s making fun of you’ his buddy simply states. ”I know, goddamnit.” It adds only more fuel to the fire and his lip pulls up a little as a rumbling sound comes from deep within his throat. Not that it made him look threatening. His gaze was unfocussed, his form still lanky and unmuscular. It would take another few years before his body would’ve reached the bulky form that came with his linage. He listens to her and relaxes slightly when the sound dies down, but only to tense up in anger as she starts giggling again. ”What’s so funny?” he cannot help but to sneer, all though it sounds a little pathetic coming from his mouth.
He holds his head high and his ears haven’t left their turned back position yet. It limits his abilities to study her and her reactions, but his unamused state overpowers his other needs. She says it is her tree and Bryn wonders why someone would want to own a burning tree. Sure, it seemed miraculous and magical – why else didn’t it burn down – but the use of it was beyond understanding. ’That one is nuts, really, just look at her. Who the fuck owns a fucking tree!’ The voice blasts, and the greying male can only agree with that.
Anger rises once again as she names his kidnapper. ”I’m not” he replies coldly. ”Just because he dumped me in that godforsaken hole and left me all by myself doesn’t mean he owns me.”’Just let her talk her rubbish, she doesn’t know better. But we do, he doesn’t own you, I tell you.’ Hearing those comforting words Brynmor calms down a little, even relaxing his ears as he uses them to make out his environment again. It was all because of Gryffen that he had turned out like this, all bitter and lonely. If the pale male hadn’t dumped him in one of the Chamber’s secluded corners who knows what might had become of him.
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
She almost has it under control when he starts talking to herself again, and Shaytan erupts into barely contained teehees and sniggers. Oh this is fantastic! Ohhhh this is rich. The pot calls the kettle black while covered in sinders on the outside and burnt bits on the inside. Double black. Extra black. So black it gives you heartburn.
“You don’t know?!?” Shatan practically falls over from her laying upright position. Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy and she can be the one to tell him. As soon as her sides stop heaving with laughter, she sighs and turns her attention back to the clearly bewildered and even a little hurt (come on, he knows he is, his tone of voice when she mentions Gryffen makes it obvious) stallion. “No one’s told you? You’re not talking to anyone. There’s no one here but me…” And if he could see the look on her face, he’d probably want to kick it in. She is sneering - because she finally has someone to feel superior to. Because even if she is crazy, at least she doesn’t talk to invisible beings.
As for the sneer, it continues to creep into her voice. “And if you think Gryffen is ever going to let you out of his grasp, you’re doubly crazy.” Once he sank his claws into something, he rarely let go unless ordered to. His poor captives up on that Mountain… Shaytan would rather go a lifetime without drinking another bunny’s blood than be bound to him. “Unless…”
She has a fit of inspiration. Let’s see if it pans out.
’You really are the fool here, sure she’s nuts, but you.. Brynnie, you’re worse..’ sounded the snickering voice of his non-existing friend. Now he was being laughed at by two beings. They sound different. It’s easy for him to tell where the mare stood, but he couldn’t decide on the location of his friend. He didn’t question it. As long as he remembered it had always been like this and his buddy was the only one who had always been around. ’And remember that’ was the sneering voice of his mind. ”Oh shut up!” he angrily snarls, both to the voice and Shaytan. Brynmor bares his teeth and looks angrily in the mare’s direction, simply because he didn’t know where else he should focus his anger on, as he couldn’t locate his ‘friend’s’ position.
”What are you talking about?” he replies, voice still full of anger but this time the graying male manages to not snarl at her. ’Don’t listen to her, they all only tell your lies, just trust me. Unlike them I’ve been with you all the time, haven’t I? This time he ignores the voice and instead he focusses his attention on the spotted mare (not that he can see her spots, but hey).
Her words hit him, and hit him hard. It is like your whole world comes crumbling down. For a moment he just stands there, if he had been able to see he would have stupidly stared at her. The same stupid look is upon Bryn’s face, yet he isn’t looking in the entirely right direction. ”What? Don’t try to fool me. He’s been around all my life, the only one who paid some attention to me!” He cannot stop his voice from raising, not only because of anger, but also because of the shock and the sudden feeling of helplessness.
She’s right. She’s terribly right. And Brynmor doesn’t like it one bit. ”It’s not like I asked for it” he mutters in defeat. All he remembers is that Gryffen took him, without knowing what happened before that, and dumped him in de dark corner of the Chamber that has been his home for years. The pale male said Brynmor owed his life to the pale stallion and since Bryn didn’t know what had happened, he could not know if it was the truth or a lie. He didn’t have the right to question the man’s words. Hearing her voice again his ears pick up, as his head tilts a little to the side. ”Unless what?” he cannot stop himself from asking. ’Oh igno-’ This time he doesn’t let his companion finish, tuning him out as Shaytan seems to be more interesting right now.
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
Oh he bites, and he bites so hard that Shaytan can see the juices running down his chin.
It’s a long shot, but Shay is tired of Gryffen getting all the glory. She wants a pet, and she wants more than a silly raven (no, raven’s aren’t silly - they’re Straia’s! But Gryffen’s raven is silly). Not that she would know what to do with a pet, or how to guide it, or how to take care of it. A pet is a big responsibility - and to top it all off, she doesn’t want to be like Gryffen and force anyone to be beholden to her. She wants him to do it of his own free will - or because Shay is the better option.
Ooooh… wouldn’t that just piss the stallion off? It’s a delicious thought.
Or MAYBE Shaytan could just like… be a big sister/tell him what to do occasionally? Shaytan chews on her lip a little before continuing on. I mean, she didn’t ask to like the taste of rabbit’s blood, but you don’t see her complaining about it. Or muttering about it to herself like a crazy person. She sweetens her voice, trying to toe a fine line between sugary sweet and sounding like she isn’t pleading. “Unless… you want to be on my team instead? Gryffen’s a jerk. I’m much nicer.”
Gryffen also isn’t crazy. So he’s got that going for him.
Shaytan
so many lives so many pairs of eyes
[eeek i have no idea what this is, haha. sorry dear x.x ]
