"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
11-21-2015, 01:21 PM (This post was last modified: 11-21-2015, 01:22 PM by Weir.)
He's laughed for so long that his sides ache, but it's a minor discomfort to him as they journey north. In fact it is a welcome discomfort, the roan stallion was glad to share in laughter once again. Weir had no trouble passing the time with talk. It came so easily in the company of the black pony. An adventurer at heart, that's what Weir thought of @[Fynnegan]. The little man was eager to journey with him, even to the Gates, and they set forth from the Meadow without delay.
He wanted to hear what had befallen the Gates. He wanted to know from the source and not the rumors that whispered themselves across Beqanna. Not to mention he did not want to be a part of those rumors, so there was no better way to find out the facts. He wanted to meet the Gates people as well, see for himself the damage if they would allow him. He wanted to form an opinion, a reasoning for why they had ever been targeted in the first place.
Once, a few Gates people had paid visit to the Dale. He had been rude to a particular male, they had not gotten along, and nothing of consequence had resulted from that meeting. For that he was sorry, for that he hoped they would not hold him any ill will. He remembered fondly the little mare that had come as well, a little filly clinging at her side. Wichita, he remembered her name, her demeanor.
As they approached the Kingdom of Heaven Weir stopped, they would not make a mistake by just waltzing in. "Their borders lie just ahead my good fellow," he prattles to his companion, "best if we wait for them to come to us, and not the other way around." He turned and smiled down at the black stallion. "These people are said to have suffered a great misfortune, perhaps they will be willing to speak to us about it. Now that said, if things are to turn sour, we will leave straight away. If you must, I beg you do so even at the cost of abandoning me. No, no I won't hear a word against it." He insisted that he would hold them off if he must, that Fynnegan must find the Dale. He was certain it wouldn't come to that though, that would be especially odd considering Weir had no intentions at upsetting the quiet Kingdom. Just in case though, better safe than sorry.
He shifts his weight, calls out into the meadows, "Hulllooo!" He knew they were a small Kingdom, and he did not want to stand in wait forever-best to make their presence known.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
As their moms had once again fallen into boring chatting Amorette and her sister-like best friend had slipped away. Or that was how the young smoky black girl thought they had done, little did she know that both the mares were quite aware of the filly’s doing. Yet that didn’t change anything about the fact that Amore felt adventurous and even somewhat like they had secretly snuck away.
She honestly loved her new home, the Gates is a beautiful place, especially compared to the mountain herd she had been born into. Right from the moment they had arrived she had been stuck by the beauty. For as far as she could see there had been flowers blooming, soft hills and little oases surrounded by vegetation. And every time Amorette left her maman’s side to explore a little more she would find something even more beautiful.
Like her maman had told her so shortly after their arrival at Heaven she had always stayed within hearing distance. Little Amorette didn’t understand her maman’s anxiousness, but even though the adventure lured her, pleasing her parents was something high on her list of priorities, afraid to disappoint her maman and papa.
The strange and loud greeting from the border changed that. Who could blame the little filly for being curious to this call, as it had a strange vibe to it. She was like a child chasing a butterfly, totally forgetting about her surroundings and promises, as she trotted off towards the border to see the cause of her curiosity.
Her shrill whinny greets the two males, one tall like her papa and one more of her own height. Amorette cannot stop herself from gazing at him, taking him in with baffled surprise. ”You’re small” she bluntly states, still not able to gasp it full. ”But you look much older than me? How can that be?”
It is only after she has already blurt out those questions that she realises how impolite she has been. While trying to swallow the sudden limp in her throat the smoky black filly backs away a little, suddenly a little flustered, uneasy and most of all shy. Oh.. Why did she bluntly took off like this? Why did she approach these strangers without her maman, without Besra even. Amorette feels terrible small and afraid she have might disappointed someone once again.
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
He is wandering the border when he heard the call. It was not often that the other kingdoms came to call upon the peaceful kingdom of the Gates—and, recently, it had been the other way around. So he does not make them wait long, instead immediately altering his path to move toward the trio that stood near the border. He arrives just in time to hear Amorette, and he smiles gently at her, feeling the embarrassment roll off of her in great waves. Magnus walks up by her side, touching her shoulder gently with his muzzle before looking toward the two other stallions. “What my daughter means is welcome to the Gates.”
She was, of course, not his daughter. In fact, she was the daughter of a stallion he hated more than almost any other he had met before—but that wasn’t what mattered. He had adopted her into his heart, and she was no different than if she was related by blood. He would love and protect Amorette as if she was a child of his own, just as he loved the handful of other children that he had sired. They were all important.
“My name is Magnus,” he greets warmly, his voice deep and husky, and he motions to the rest of the land unfolding around them. “Would you like to come further into the kingdom? It truly is beautiful in the fall.” It was one of his favorite seasons here. The leaves began to turn colors and drop to the floor beneath the sprawling trees; the air began to grow colder and crisp. It was nothing like his homeland, the home of his heart, but he had learned to love the intricacies of Heaven. As he begins to usher them further into the kingdom, he walks beside his daughter. “So, what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
I can't say a journey ever went so quickly, Weir and I laughed the entire time. The paths were effortless due to the distraction of good laughs and intellectual debate. Before I realize be recently crowned giant stopped at the threshold of a kingdom. I realize this is not the Dale, but rather a side stop, and Weir as stilled, a quiet look on his eyes- serious even. I don't move on, I look to my tour guide to determine our next action. I pause curious as to why he looks down at me to serious and stern-- almost fatherly-- even though he is only a few years older. Weir gives me a talk about boarders, and fleeing- if something went wrong- even if it meant leaving him. I frown at him- I may be small new, and officially unaligned with his kingdom, but I am not one to leave friends behind. I am always shocked at how my companion seems to read my mind 'cause I want to tell him I will never just run off and leave him to fight off an entire kingdom when he tell me he "won't hear anything of it." I snort at him, letting my disagreement fall to the side with a nod of approval. Though if something did go wrong- I'll stay.
With that Weir calls for the people of this place to appear and we wait. Not long- no not long at all. I see a little thing, like me approaching but, the being is young- not small. Oh, no, there is a difference young is young and will grow... and small is simply small- like me. I am small but I do not look like a yearling or foal, no, no. I am just pint sized. My head, when held high, hits Weir's upper shoulder, just below the whither; my spine along Weirs lower barrel. I am no teeny tiny horse, but I am small. Small-- and definitely no foal. Oh... lord I'm off on an internal tangent, again. I focus back on the young being, a filly. I see her look from the bay and white flecked lad then to me, curious- and I think she wants to look strong- independent, but she doesn't quite know how. Her eyes look at me and speak of my smallness. I snort in an annoyed reply. I know I am small sweetheart. I wish people saw more than my size in greeting. I smile in politeness, swallowing my unpleasant emotions- I am a guest after all.
And you are obervant, lass. I am a Falabella- just a small horse. I am told others like me used to be much more common around Bequanna. Interesting, no?
I look up at Weir- looking for confirmation or, maybe I had the fact wrong, but I didn't want to speak on things I didn't know about completely. Well, either way- he knew more of the world than the little smoke filly did. I look back to catch her reactions and notice she is acting smaller. I shake my head slightly- my annoyance gone.. I just have a short fuse sometimes, and I smile at the little filly.
Now, now. You can't learn if you don't ask, and to not ask is to accept being.....
I stop as a larger horse steps in welcoming us to The Gates. Ahhh, so that is where we are! Pa used to live here. How fun! I am finally able to see this place in person. I nod to the big guy, in greeting as he introduces himself. I shall do the same I think, yes. I shall not wait for Weir, no no, he is a great companion but not my voice. I am new but we are equally guests here- so I doubt he will mind.
Pleasure Magnus. I am Fynnegan, and my companion is Weir. Weir is taking me to see the Dale, but wanted to stop here first, he had a question for you, your kingdom. I must say, this place is lovely and I think it would be an honor to see it more closely. My Pa used to be a diplomate here in Gates. Thought it was long ago, and I believe it was a brief tenure.
I smile at Magnus and look to Weir, giving him the floor. I trot a few steps to move up into the kingdom, next to Magnus, and look to my companion to ask the questions and share information that I was to new to know about. I listen to tidbits, I am curious of what has happened here. My father walked these grounds. How interesting to be doing the same now, yes, this was an honor to be allowed here.
» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «
11-28-2015, 03:12 PM (This post was last modified: 11-28-2015, 03:16 PM by Weir.)
He stations himself upright, convinced that his companion will heed his advice, awaiting with patience the inhabitants of the Gates. Mostly patience, even he could become restless, but he doesn't have to.
A little thing is coming their way, Weir spreads a broad smile across his jaw. Weir adored children, he thought them entirely wonderful, and usually it was so. He always thought it was best to meet someone as a child, before the world corrupted them, hurt them. It's a curious thing the way things impact the young, forever changing them for one reason or another. They may notice the subtleties right away, they may not until much later and think back on the day the change was made.
He is glad the child steps forth to greet them, and he bites his lip as words come tumbling from her mouth. Why, perhaps it was sort of rude to announce someones stature is such a way, but it was likely just an observation. He can tell it is so as the child shrinks, suddenly aware of her harmless mistake. Fynnegan is soon responding, though Weir senses that he isn't entirely thrilled about the judgement. He does however react gracefully, though he looks to Weir with a questioning glance. "Why I don't rightly know, surely there had been, can't say there wasn't. I do not think Falabella's are quite as prominent as they once were, judging on this child's reaction. Hello there- dear child, oh wait- it's quite all right. What's your name?" He seems to make an attempt to gently coax her back.
He tries his best to lighten the mood, to make her feel more at ease. His ears flutter on his head, tossing strands of his forelock around, and then they disappear. He widens his eyes, flares his nostrils in a repeated manner, looking absolutely absurd. Soon enough someone else approaches, and Weir must again straighten and look proper- though he forgets his missing ears. The stranger greets them warmly, remarking with a more traditional welcome than his daughter had. Fynnegan steps in to make greeting, and to exchange their names. This was Magnus they were meeting, and his young filly.
"It's quite all right, nothing to be worried about, just a question." He beams brightly at the girl before returning to the matter at hand. "Thank you for receiving us Magnus. I've been discussing with my new friend the state of the realms, I thought it best to come to the source on the recent matters of the Gates. I would be most grateful to come in yes, nothing like a first hand look." He nods, then blinks down to his friend. "What do you say Fynnegan? Shall we have a look around?"
Of course he couldn't be left with all the decision making, it was never safe to place all your eggs in a basket. "I do apologize for the directness in our visit. I hear of the shameful display of brute force from the Chamber on your fae-gifted entity." His brow furrows, creasing just so against his amber eyes. It was a terrible thought, a terrible deed, he wondered why such a thing would come to pass. "Is it true then? Your gift is gone?" Weir had not heard that the entity was not entirely ruined. The rumors made it sound as such, and so he was under the notion the Chamber had left them with nothing.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
She cannot help it but to flinch when the small stallion replies to her careless remark. She only glances up slightly to meet his gaze, afraid of what she might see. Little Amorette hated it to disappoint others, for them to think disapprovingly of her. So of course she does release that she had made a mistake and she feels terrible because of it. His words aren’t harsh, and he manages to make her feel a little better. Amorette looks up again, still careful and somewhat flustered, but with a small smile adorning her lips again. ”Désolé, I’m sorry” she mumbles, only barely loud enough to be heard.
Her gaze travels to the other male as he speaks up, lightening the mood even more. It wouldn’t take away her shyness, but she does feel more at ease. ”I’m Amorette” she replies with a wide smile, her head tilting a little to the side. ”Who’re you?”
As her papa joins them the young girl cannot help but to keep giggling, still utterly amused by the little show the big roan stranger had put up for her. And secretly she also finds it quite funny that he isn’t at all aware that his ears are still gone. Automatically she melts into the buckskin stallion’s side, pressing closer against him as she still curiously looks at the three adults, trying to understand and follow their conversation.
Although she does understand the spoken words, she doesn’t always understand what the three males mean. But it’s amusing and interesting enough to just watch. They make a strange group. The funny roan male, who’s still missing his ears, the small pony build male and then her papa, golden coat and fabulous wings. And then, of course, you had her, Amorette. A small smoky black filly that had only arrived at the Gates not too long ago.
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Magnus is grateful that the two stallions are kind—even more grateful when Weir does his best to smooth over the clearly ruffled feathers of his embarrassed daughter—and his smile is relived. He grins when he sees that the roan’s ears are missing and he looks at them for a second, coughing under his breath and motioning upward before glancing down at his daughter curled into his side. “You are becoming quite the little diplomat, Amorette,” he says in hushed tones, his eyes warm. “You’re doing the Gates proud.”
He turns back to the visiting stallions and his expression sobers at their line of questioning. He falls silent as he leads them further into the kingdom, keeping an eye out for the deer-shifting king or any other members of their growing kingdom. “No need to apologize. I prefer someone who is straightforward. It is much easier to know exactly where you stand with someone like that.” He glances over to his companions, “I have found the indirect are usually that way because they have something to hide.”
Because it seemed to be of interest to them, he altered their path toward the Mother Tree and the surrounding garden. He did not fully understand the gifts, had been gone long before they had been given to the kingdom and returned only after they had been harmed, but they were part of the Gates and thus of the most importance to him. “The Chamber is nothing more than a kingdom of bullies looking to showcase what they perceive to be power,” he said quietly, his gold-flecked eyes burning with intensity.
He brings his attention back to them, glancing down at his daughter with a sad smile before meeting their gaze. “Unfortunately for them, they were not successful in completely ruining the Gates’ gifts.” He motioned toward the new growth, although it was admittedly small, that stood ready to meet the winter. “We are flourishing as a kingdom and soon our entities will match.” He met Fynnegan’s gaze. “Who was your father, by the way? I may have known him.” Then, with a smile, “And how does the Dale fair?” He had been planning on traveling to the Dale to discuss a treaty; this was quite fortune indeed.
I really can be a bit of an over-reactive hot head. Hell, I am short- and no amount of snapping at wee babes is going to change that. I can't believe myself, can I get a redo? That poor little filly embarrassed because of me. Thank goodness Weir is more equipped at handling youth than I. I can see him making a fool of himself to make the lass smile, and to make up for my own short comings in dealing with her. SHe speaks, a feeble sorry before introducing herself and asking us our names. I look at her. simply, trying to make my eyes kind, though I think may look more sad...or constipated... or something. I suck at kids.
Nay, Amorrette- I should be sorry. I did not mean to snap- I'm afraid I cause you a touch of embarrassment. You youngin's should be allowed your curiosity- its how you learn after all.
I nod at her, a tiny bow of apology. I may be older but I know when I am wrong-- most the time. Before a moment passes Weir is making faces, and I want to collapse in laughter- but since we have older company- I settle for a light chuckle, and move on with Magnus, and Weir- listening to their words. Weir is curious of traits, and I see magnus stiffen with emotion when weird asks. Magnus has been welcoming- but I can't help but wonder if he will not we welcoming with his response to these questions. I slow slightly, it would barely be noticeable with my short legs. I bet the guys think I am simply slowing due to pace... but no no, distance in case Magnus gets upset (better to be safe then sorry). Magnus while emotional- is calm and answers simply. Well, maybe simply for Weir- he seems so smart- i bet nothing confuses him. I get lost with the whole talk of traits. Where did they come from and how could another kingdom take them from other kingdoms? This place is much more interesting than the stories-but I have to ask more questions, if I am to understand this land.
The path our group is on winds neatly through to a tree. There is obvious destruction around them, though the land was trying to regrow. It is curious, I think. I wait until Magnus answers Weir, after all, I have some manors to make up for.
Call me daft, but how could Chamber, or any kingdom, possibly destroy the traits of another kingdom? They are kingdom gifts- so wouldn't they always be so unless the entire kingdom were to no longer exist?
Much to learn. I hear Magnus change topics to me, and my father. I nod, though I think it unlikely- Magnus looks too young to know my father, but I oblige him the information just the same.
Oh, I doubt you will know him- a young and upcoming leader like yourself, but his name was Harleyquinn. He was an ambassador or a governor...or something in the peace caste. He never really talked about his title- more of just the interesting stories he heard while did the job.
I nod at that, and look at Amorette. She seems to find our trio as fascinating as I do, though I believe it would be for different reasons. Magnus is asking about the Dale, and I should probably be more interested in that line of questions, but I am not. I smile sweetly at the lass instead- trying to show my kid friendly side, and to continue to help her feel less embarrassed because of my pea-brain. I step a little closer to her as to not disrupt the other two and their conversation,
Miss Amorette- what do you think of this garden? Do you find you like Gates?
I may not be a goofy-kid friend thing like weir, not did I have the sweet father figure thing down, but I can ask questions... and listen. I am good at that.
» death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily «
He laughs whole-heartedly, grinning from ear to ear. Not that anyone could tell, but the gesture is there all the same. Weir is glad to have helped ease the girl's embarrassment, for they had not truly meant it he was sure. All the same, best to fix it before things went down hill. He's busy listening to Magnus when the stallions ease dart to his head, gesturing. He wonders what that is all about for a moment. Then he remembers.
"Oh, right, yes. ears. I should have those shouldn't I?" He clears his throat, and then the two little appendages are there again. They flit about his red forelock, turning this way and that. "There we are." He says rightly, trailing alongside the others into the depths of Heaven.
"How about you though Fynn? Do you need your ears?" He grins and gives a wink, before turning the ponies ears invisible.
The tree, now that is a sight. It's been ravaged, alongside a sprouting garden. A garden, indeed, he had not known about that one. "Terrible, terrible sort of mess. I shouldn't like this sort of behavior to carry on." He means that, he truly does. "We havn't been keeping up with our visits, and for that I apologize. I should speak to our King about helping here, I see no reason why not." Then he wonders if that idea is even a welcome one. "That is of course if the Gates should agree. We can't let this sort of thing continue, not here, not anywhere." Certainly not, because if the Chamber would wreak havoc on an entity, what was to keep them from deciding theirs was worth destroying as well. Weir gulped, swallowing hard, the thought of loosing Darwin made him sick. After all, Darwin was his soul, and he couldn't very well part with that. Not for anyone.
"Why Fynnegan, I never knew." He presses, commenting on the Falla's family history.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
bleh. I'm sorry, I just didn't want this to sit so stagnant >.<
Her heart flutters and a shy yet genuine smile spreads on her lips. The little compliment does mean a lot to her and Amorette is honestly relieved that she hasn’t disappointed her father. She presses closer against the golden man’s side, nuzzling his shoulder before making a small step forward, her attention back to Weir and Fynnegan.
She decides that she likes them, even though they started off a little on the wrong foot. The smoky black girl is aware of the mistake she has made, but she did also apologise for it. And the tall male eased her heart by making fun of himself while the short one uses words to do the same. Amorette doesn’t fully get what Fynnegan exactly means, but he tune and the parts she does understand are clear enough. With a quick glance in Magnus’ direction she steps forward, carefully extending her neck and nose into Fynnegan’s direction with a warm smile upon her lips. ”I won’t say it again” she promises him.
Once the three adults start to talk about adult things, things Amorette doesn’t fully understand yet, she zones out a little. Instead she just looks at them interact, still safely tucked at her adoptive father’s side. It is then that she decides that she wants to be like her father, because she does admire him and like any child she wants her parents to be proud first and foremost. And thus she listens, trying to learn, even though little Amorette doesn’t really fully understand yet.
Sure she knows their tree, in fact, she adores and admires that same tree. She can feel its magic and the way new life sprouts from something burned and dead is just really fascinating. To her disappointment Magnus doesn’t continue to speak about it, instead he moves to a subject that seems less interesting to the young girl. It was the first time she had heard about other kingdoms than the Gates and while she put one and one together to make two, Amorette learns that it had been another kingdom that had hurt their tree. She had yet to come across darker things in life, thus far her life had been easy and good on her, and the news that someone hurt their tree on purpose forced the her to face some new emotions that conflict and confuse her.
”Papa” she suddenly speaks up, not at all aware that she is might disturbing a conversation. ”Why did they hurt our tree?”
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