"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
Perhaps this was really home. It was the one place she always returned to, where everything had started. From growing up with Novea and meeting the boy of stone to deciding to tie herself to the jungle. The place where Lion had stripped her of everything she had built herself up to be. When the Amazons seemed to close in around her and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think… This is where she came. So many strangers made her feel more comfortable. It was because here she could be a stranger too, it didn’t matter if nobody recognized her. That was expected in the Meadow. Her jaguar spots ripple across her body as she silently moves into the open, golden eyes alert and judging. The new wings she had acquired brushing against her sides as the wind ruffles her feathers. She stands out and yet blends in all the same, because she’s nothing to anyone here.
The heather is springing back to life with the coming of spring and she finds herself standing in the midst of it, enjoying the way the new stems lashes against her limbs with the breeze. The coolness of the breeze is inviting, she doesn’t mind the way it chills her. Her fur hasn’t grown much, the jungle doesn’t allow it, so it makes her shiver with each passing gust. It’s becoming odd how the heat is starting to bother her, how she seems to seek out the cold more and more. Everything about her screams that she is a sister, that she can’t leave. And yet… And yet. Maybe her time there is done. Maybe it’s time for this jaguar to change her spots.
Constantly lost, lost in her mind, lost in her home. Decisions weighing on her, Lion constantly haunting her dreams. Now she knows for certain that he’s dead and she thought she would find some sweet release knowing he could not torment her physically or mentally anymore. And yet…. Her heart aches constantly. The Meadow is her only escape. The only time she can somewhat clear her head although the former Dale King always seems to catch in the corner of her eye, making her spin quickly and searching the shadows for a figure that’s not there. It’s become obvious that the former Khaleesi is not what she had once been. This is a shell of the powerful and intelligent being she had once been. And she searches… How she searches! Searching for answers, searching for peace. Just something, give me something! Something that makes me whole again.
i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He doesn’t know why he comes here. The place holds nothing for him, save for bitter memories of a love lost. It was here that he had met Smolder, learned to love her, and then lost her in the same breath. The meadow had been their secret hideaway of sorts, a place where they could forget titles and alliances and all of the bullshit workings of their beloved kingdoms. He could still remember the way her breath had felt against his neck, and the way her skin had tasted between his lips. Sweet like lilac, but with a hint of smoke and ash. But as surely as the moon controls the ebb of the ocean tides, their former lives had caught up to them with a vengeance. He should not have been so stupid to realize that it would happen, but he’d been blinded by something far greater than himself. He’d given in to the illusion of love, only to come up empty handed and with a heart like granite.
But he comes anyways.
He comes into the meadow as quietly as the spring had slipped past winter. Almost unnoticeable, slipping through the trees and the shadows. Other horses grazed and chatted in their cliques, and for a moment he was envious of their easy conversation. But only for a moment. He would have nothing to say to any of them anyways. The black stallion was on a mission of solitude today. Today, he would simply enjoy different scenery, though in truth he missed his home. This place was nice in its own way, but it lacked the dark grandeur of the chamber that he was so accustomed to. It was more spacious and far less dense, the shadows less heavy. But while the snow still clung to the landscape at his home, here it was warm. The grasses were new and green and the trees showed promise of blooms to be. So he would enjoy it, despite the ghosts that peeked at him from behind the trees.
He is lost in his thoughts totally (and they are strange, rambling thoughts). He stays in the shadows on the forest, so he is somewhat startled when he comes upon a mare. Her coloring is the first thing he notices, followed by an impressive set of wings. But those are of little consequence, for she wears the same strained look on her face that he does. Clearly he’s wandered into something private, but he’s here now and sees little chance of a graceful exit. Stopping, he clears his throat, revealing his presence in the least intrusive way he knows how. Manners were something often lost on the old stallion, but he would try. “I seem to be intruding.” he said awkwardly. There were a million things he should probably say, but none of them were coming easily to his tongue. Chatting about the weather seemed to be quite possibly the dumbest thing he could do, so he refrained from that, thinking hard. “I sometimes come here to think too. But not very often. I’m Warship, by the way.” He didn’t ask for her name, and certainly wouldn’t blame her if she left without so much as a backwards glance.
She knows she still has a heart. It’s in pieces, little bits of shredded and tattered paper that lies in a cavity of her chest. But it’s there, beating feebly. Before it had turned to ice, cold and frozen after what Lion had done. Time had done it’s work, she had nothing to do for years but think about it. Slowly the ice dripped and melted and that’s when her heart simply fell apart. That one little stitch that Lion had put into it after Slaide had done his work easily slipped from where it had been sown. Lion was suppose to have been one of the good guys. Just goes to show that even the nicest guys have their demons.
But he was dead. It was over. It should be over. Why did she feel even worse then? For a moment she sees a shadow and her breath catches in her throat, thinking he’s come from the grave. It takes her just a moment to realize her mistake, it’s only a black stallion who has found amongst the trees. Muscles slowly unwind as she relaxes, also unaware how suddenly her body had coiled to pounce. An awkward apology comes from his dark lips and she simply shakes her head as she responds. ”No need for that.” Offering her faint smile as her golden eyes assess him. Warship. It doesn’t strike any note of recognition. Maybe she should know about him from back when her father was still alive for the two had known each other… Worked together. But she doesn’t. He’s just another dark stranger who comes with a mystery all his own.
”I’m Tantalize.” She finally says after a few moments of watching him. She wonders why he’s here. Wonders about the strained look that curves along the lines of his face. A look she recognizes in the septs of his eyes. ”What bring you here?” She asks quietly since there was nothing else to talk about and they were both strangers to one another. For a moment she thinks she catches a whiff of the Chamber and she involuntarily takes a step back, her wings unfurling slightly. Maybe this was one of Gryffen’s minions, an assassin he had sent to kill her after she had spirited away his child. Maybe that is why he looks rather upset. Instantly on the alert, her muscles tense again as she watches him warily. If only she knew how to use this damn wings.
i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
His heart was concrete by now. At one time it had been made of the flesh and blood that makes up other equine hearts, and those had been simpler times. Then the first break (mother) followed by the rest. Perhaps after his mother he’d been left with sandstone- soft still, but with a certain hardness to it. Through the frictions of life and the iron clad grip the world had on him, it had gradually hardened to the mess it was today. Beating only through magic and for a kingdom he’d given his life to.
He’d tried, once, to soften that concrete. That had been a mistake. He wasn’t meant to love or be loved. The creator had built him to be a warrior and nothing more, and that was the visage he retained. Old habits die hard after all. If anyone had been worth laying down his armor for, it had been her. Smolder, his wayward Queen and someone he thought he loved. But love was an illusion for fools and dreamers, and he was nothing if not a skeptic of both.
She shakes her head at his apology, and he offers a small smile in return. Clearly she wasn’t bothered by his awkwardness, and as such he relaxes himself. “Tantalize. A pleasure.” he says in his easy baritone voice, dipping his head slightly. She smells of Amazons, and kingdom he knows little to nothing about. A part of him wonders if Smolder had had an Amazonians strength, if things between them would have been different. Strength, after all, was something he could understand and relate to. But he pushes his rose gray deer from his mind, focusing instead on the winged mare in front of him. “Good question. One I don’t have a good answer to. Boredom? Thinking?” He longs to say reminiscing, but thinks better of it at the last moment. He doesn’t know this mare, and she doesn’t know him, and it seems foolish to spill all of his secrets at once, though a part of him is begging for release. Suddenly she tenses, and he finds himself mirroring her stance. His neck tenses and he listens hard into the forest, all the while breathing deep of the breeze. He hears nor smells nothing out of the ordinary, yet still she remains on guard. “Whats the matter?” he asks, his voice little more than a low growl. Hopefully it wasn’t his luck to run into a wayward woman with a scorned lover tracking after her. But, that would be his luck.
09-29-2015, 11:15 PM (This post was last modified: 10-05-2015, 01:44 PM by Tantalize.)
tantalize
infinity overhead
and i whisper, are you listening?
Her heart lay in a million pieces, thrown amongst the cage within her breast. She didn’t bother trying to put them back together. Love was not in her future and for some reason the gods found her unworthy of it. They had offered her Slaide and then forced her to watch him love another. They had given her Lion only to make turn him against her in the most ultimate betrayal. Love isn’t real. Perhaps it never existed to begin with and everyone was just fooling themselves with a made up emotion that could never be attained.
Her heartbreak is the furthest thing from her mind now though. It is rolling anxiety that takes over her and it only increases as he tenses up when she does. Instantly her ears pin back against her skull and she takes a step back, golden eyes darting to the side to see where an escape route may lay. ”You’re from the Chamber.” She growls back, a predators stance taking over her tense body and looking more jaguar than horse. As fast as her heart is racing, she will not back down. If the stallion wanted to fight her than a fight he will get. ”Did Gryffen send you after me?” She snarls softly, certain that her half-brother had finally sent an assassin after her. Payment for stealing his child from him, he must have found out she was behind it all. Deep down she knows it was him if that’s what this stranger is here for but she needs to hear it from his lips. Needs it spoken aloud.
i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He was drawn to the broken ones like a moth to a flame. It was a pull as strong as the moon on the ocean tides, and he was helpless to stop it. Perhaps because of his own battered self, or something else. He had an uncanny ability to find those needing fixed…but he was no artesian. He was simply a master in the art of faking it. The stallion had never been able to fix himself, let alone someone else. The best he could do was apply mortar to the cracks and hope that the patch would hold. But rebuilding? He’d long since given up on such impossibilities, and had instead learned to live with the imperfections and do what he could. Maybe that was his ability- to find broken, albeit kindred, spirits.
She bristles and he returns her glare, his own eyes narrowing at her as his ears flickered back to his skull. Her tension is palpable, and he’s momentarily surprised that it isn’t visible in the air between him. The soldier in him feeds off of her sudden hostility, and he rolls his jaw in an effort to calm himself. He does not answer her immediately, instead mulling her words over in his mind. He’s not surprised that she seems to have had past transgressions with Gryffen- for as valuable as he was to the Chamber, he was also a vile bastard with no conscience. Warship tolerated him, and valued him as a member of the Chamber, but he couldn’t help but be uneasy with some of his actions. “I serve the Chamber, not Gryffen.” he retorts, his voice a low rumble. This isn’t the first time he’s covered a Chamber mess, and not one that he caused. He takes a step forward, his shoulders still squared but his face softening slightly. “Whatever your issues with Gryffen, know this. They don’t reflect all Chamber members. We’re not all cut from the same cloth. Take that for what its worth.” he said, shrugging slightly. He expected her to turn tail and leave, not believe him, or both. Either way, he wasn’t sure he cared.
