"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
04-14-2015, 03:16 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2015, 05:46 PM by Astri.)
Am I supposed to have meaning? I'm not sure. With a flick of my unusually "festive" mane I inhale and blink to hold back the regret and tears. I knew this day would come; I'd have to leave the place for foals (the only home I've really known) and make my own way. But how can someone with no past make a solid future? I'd had shit for parents, so the rules of this world were still new to me. But I could try. I'd do my best.
I lift my head, set my mismatched sights for the field and begin the short journey. I fake confidence, hoping it'll deter the worst of scum, and quickly slip between the throng of horses and other ... creatures. Some are flashy (and I suppose that I'm not so normal myself, what with my bright green fur) with wings and horns and fangs, but there are others who are more subtle. Splashes of color and then normalcy. With a deflated ego I mumble a quiet introduction and choose a spot to graze for a bit, hoping to seem unassuming and available without coming off as completely ignorant. This was going to be harder than I'd imagined.
Before long the others disperse and I'm left somewhat alone. Separate, yet still near the dwindling gathering. I finish up and peer curiously to them - wondering off-hand if my color makes me blend too well with the green forage.
Though he’s been progressively at ticking off all the boxes required of a kingdom horse, Texas has begun to grow bored. He had known that the Falls was a quiet kingdom, but he had not expected all of Beqanna to be quiet as well. It grates beneath his skin, a constant reminder that he has no ultimate plan, that he is simply surviving and making no attempt at living.
He’s brought a new member to the kingdom, tried a steal, done a challenge. Check, check, check.
Today would be a good day to laze about in the kingdom. The summer sun is bright overhead and the breeze keeps the air from being too still. It also blows the tangled strands of his grey streak mane into face, and Texas snorts irritably as he pauses to shake it away. He is in the Field instead of napping, and while there are several potential prospects, the weight of his productivity has already begun to chafe.
He decides to stand very still, and see if anything changes.
Hours pass, and he falls asleep instead of observes, and when he wakes the majority of those around him have been captured or convinced to leave the Field. There are a handful of mares and stallions, and then there is a bright green figure a little off in the distance.
Texas has never seen a green horse, despite his years, and he immediately forgets his irritation. He approaches her, and while his brown eyes cover every inch of her figure as he draws closer, his gaze is not at all lascivious. The bay stallion is intrigued and appreciative of this novelty, and when he settles a comfortable distance from the young mare his smile is warm and charming.
“You’re quite the looker,” he tells her, the drawl in his tenor voice stretching out the words. He says it as though it is a fact to be acknowledged, neither teasingly or flirtatiously. Texas is quite clearly just a bay stallion with friendly eyes. “I’m Texas, from the Falls. What’s your name?”
04-15-2015, 06:49 PM (This post was last modified: 04-15-2015, 08:10 PM by Scorch.
Edit Reason: I thought it was Texas who hated amazons but then it was Covet actually so I'm stupid HAHA
)
WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
The months since her last visit here have grown aplenty, though her reasons are not excuses. Queenship has come easily to her, though it is not to say that the burden is not great. She feels its weight, knows the responsibilities she has taken on along with the crown. However, she's been in the Jungle longer than all others - three decades, to be sure. No matter what other horses seem to think, this holds great meaning. She's always been active, always been fighting for the Jungle, always been striving for something more. She's always been there, and she knows the Jungle's most recent history the best because hell, she was there! These simply are the facts; non disputable. While not perfect, Scorch refuses to be put down for knowing why she deserves the throne.
That being said, she's been delaying her first trip to the field in a very long time. Not because she's unwilling to - hell, she'll do anything for the Jungle, even make friends - but because she knows that her sisters are working hard out here. Pharaon especially - Scorch has noticed her works greatly, and intends to honour them upon their next meeting. Today, however, she goes against what her Erinak has advised her. She approaches the field, though she does not charge right in - something that has taken decades of practice. To have known Scorch in the past, this type of self restraint would be unbelievable.
A queerly coloured mare detaches herself from the useless gaggle of women, rousing Scorch from the sidelines. She herself is rather oddly coloured, with flame tattoos covering every inch of her body, save for the green vine twirling itself up her leg and blossoming into a sharp red flower on her chest. And all of this on a hairless body, I might add (that damned dragon, she'd never live down being roasted like a hot dog). Now focusing her attention on the young mare, Scorch waits to see if any other Amazons happen to be lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. When none do, and a stallion veers towards the green lady, Scorch makes up her mind with a stubborn snort.
She's trotted close enough to hear Texas's introduction, and halts just in time to lend her own. "Indeed, your colouring reminds me greatly of my home." She says in her gruff voice with a small smile, accidentally revealing the very edges of her razor sharp teeth. Her colour-shifting dragon eyes meet the Abstang's, though her gaze has been known to be rather intense. "I am Queen Scorch of the Jungle, though I go only by Scorch. " Flicking an ear to Texas once to make sure she catches his question (who are you) before returning her full attention to the mantis woman to ask a question of her own. "Have you been in Beqanna long? Many who come to the Field are new, after all." She says it not unkindly, though her brusque and masculine voice may seem otherwise. Ah, well. Perception is a bitch, I suppose.
Ah yes, the carnival of misfits that is Beqanna. We've got quite the freak show here, don't we? It seems like nowadays every horse is boasting something special, or at least hiding something special carefully concealed under a trenchcoat. Scorch and Texas both are – she conceals twilight manipulation behind a flashy skin, and he is immortal. And they are just two of many, little segments of this glorious gallery.
And what is Camrynn in all of this? She's no freak, and she's certainly not normal. She is the ringmaster, the keeper of the zoo, the one who gets to make all the rules and then break them. She doesn't dance to a different drummer, she is the drummer, and her tune is ever changing. But you better keep dancing – she won't ever let you stop.
Tucked away within the sands of the Deserts, Camrynn peruses the field. It is one of the (many) advantages of magic, this ability to cast her vision wherever she wishes it to go. Although really, when you can blink your eyes and appear wherever you want, what does it really matter?
She watches the same assortment of horses that Astri sees, the menagerie in full, moving as one uncoordinated surging mass. But what interests her most is not them; it's the green girl standing apart from all of them, watching the spectacle with a remarkable degree of self-containment and self-awareness. If it were a story, this girl would almost be breaking the fourth wall.
In an instant she appears along the treeline. She never travels anywhere by foot if she can help it, choosing to appear either right next to her intended target, or as here, far enough away that she can approach without immediately revealing her certain talents. In this case, she has an ulterior motive: she knows that Scorch will arrive, and she doesn't wish to open that particular can of worms and wider than it already needs to be.
While she watches, the scene unfolds exactly as it had in her mind. Texas approaches the girl first, and then Scorch comes, lingering in the shadows like Camrynn herself does, waiting for recruiting sisters that will never come. Once both have said their piece, Camrynn moves from her shaded position. She is a beautiful thing, deeply black, her coat shining with health. She is delicately built, well muscled but undeniably elegant. Her mane and her tail are both free of tangles, her tail long enough to almost sweep the ground. She is entirely unmarked save for three distinctive elements. The first is a large gold crook and flail, blazoned proudly across her chest. The second is her eyes, which tend to change color. Right now, they're a green that harmonizes well with Astri's but does not copy it. And finally, across her left cheek there is a trail of small gemstones, diamonds and emeralds and rubies. It drapes like a beautiful necklace, catching the fading summer light in a beautiful way. Beautiful – everything about her is beautiful, and she will allow it no other way.
She approaches the group without hesitation. She may have history with Scorch, but the dragon mare can't touch her. Camrynn is immune to most everything, from everyone, save perhaps the most ancient of magicians. As she approaches, her elegant lips curl into a delicate, friendly smile. "Room for one more?" she asks the green girl with a wry grin. Her voice is almost impossibly pleasant, like settling into a warm bed, or curling up beneath a heated blanket in the middle of winter. It is the opposite of Scorch's voice: polished, feminine, and never brusque.
She settles in with the others easily enough, her eyes tracking over each of them, her gaze analytic but not unkind, her smile never wavering. "I'm Camrynn, Queen of the Deserts." she says offhand, as though commenting on the weather. She takes a surprising amount of pride in her title, but she doubts that flaunting it brazenly in front of this girl would win her interest. "Texas." she greets the old stallion with a glance, her voice neutral. "Scorch." she greets with the same tone, both her magical and lay senses keen to see how her former mother would react,
Her gaze returns to Astri. "You have lovely eyes. I'll bet your name is just as lovely."
The fact that she could pull that name out of the girl's head is entirely irrelevant. What matters is that she didn't.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
Two Queens and Texas. The gathering I'd unconsciously drawn was beginning to look like a poker hand. In hindsight, it really was a game. Two truths and a lie, to be exact. My mismatched eyes flicker between them and I shuffle the deck. Who among them was the lie? I'm nervous - it's obvious to these other horses. They can sense it through my body (or by other means). But I'm not afraid. I clear my throat, steeling myself for the age old dance and begin with the most obvious reaction. "I'm Astri." I begin, letting my words build themselves instead of stumbling over them. I wasn't a filly anymore - I was necessary, I just had to convince them of this. So I offer a quick, half-hearted smile and choose to reply to their queries in order.
Texas first then. "Thank you, Texas. I've never received a compliment quite like that before." With some measure of grace I move on to Scorch, knowing that I'll never forget the likes of her from henceforth. She was hard to ignore. "I've lived in Beqanna my entire life, your grace. I was abandoned as a foal." No sense in crying over spilt milk, my past was far behind me. With a wary eye I continue on to Camrynn, feeling my throat grow dry. There was ... something about her nature that made me feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "Some of us are blessed, but I try very hard not to dwell on outer appearances your grace. Often times I find that what may seem pleasing to the eye isn't necessarily as pleasing underneath."
I'm more wary of her than the others, and I trust my intuition above all else. But she'd offered me no harm yet, so I only nod my head and then gather myself to talk to them. "What I'm curious to know is how I'll fit in with each of your homes. I've been alone my entire life - no family, no support system. If I'm going to pledge myself in servitude to one of you, I don't want to be forgotten. I want my life to have meaning."
If you want to talk about being alone, talk to Shaytan; the difference between them is that she prefers it that way. The Chamber is quiet and only now just starting to regrow from that freaky volcanic thing that happened. And yet even for all the creepy girl prefers solitude, her Queen (yes, hers, she’s come to find she rather likes Straia, if you know what I mean) has commanded them all to recruit. The Chamber is too quiet, and so even the most awkward of the members must attempt to lure others in.
This is probably going to be a disaster. Sit back and watch the train wreck, my friends - does everyone have their drink of choice?
She is still a little bit ashen, despite having taken a long roll in the grass once she left the Chamber. It gives her a slightly gray base, covered with almost dusty bay spots. She might have some spots of blood left on her lips from the (long) break on the way here to stalk some bunnies. They had forgotten about her (my, how short a bunny’s memory is!), and in their forgetfulness, one eventually died under her hooves. But for all her odd appearance, Shaytan is feeling much less anxious now, as if something has been satiated inside her. Hell, she even has a slight smile on her face as she approaches the very diverse group.
One pony, two pony, three pony - and Shaytan makes four.
Green pony, fire pony, bay pony - more.
She catches ‘I want my life to have meaning’ and chuckles. Yeah. So does the whole fucking world, but we don’t always get our wish, do we? “You could come to the Chamber. We need more members. There’s a lot to do there, I think.” She bets Kavi would like someone who wants their life to have meaning. Oh right - as an afterthought, she throw in her name. “I’m Shaytan. Really, you should come.” She grins again, but it is almost too big and too forced, giving her a bit of an overly eager, strained look.
Not crazy. Definitely not crazy...
Shaytan
and every time she knocks I can't help but let her in
How unfortunate. Texas is not certain that he’s ever seen anything quite as unattractive as the tattooed creature, and he does his best to avert his eyes. Though he knows that it is unlikely, he desperately hopes that she’s no descendent of his, and that if she is she got the ugly genes from the other side. She certainly didn’t get them from Texas.
The second mare is a queen too, and comes with that slimy feeling that Texas equates with magicians. This day is turning out absolutely horribly, and Texas turns his greying head back in Astri’s direction in the hopes that she’s a saving grace among this odd congregation of things that Texas dislikes.
“Servitude?” He repeats, darks eyes going a little wide at the word. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about kingdoms, but the Falls doesn’t expect slavish devotion from its members.” Amazons, check and mate. They have their weird little voodoo and slashed chests on betrayers. Gods forbid someone gets tired of living in a disgustingly humid jungle and moves to a better climate.
He wonders, perhaps a little late, if it is wise to have such free-floating thoughts near a magicians. Probably not, but he’s survived this far, even with his immortality slipping away with every day spent in the Falls.
“A kingdom is a place to live. If you want to make yourself great, you can do so anywhere.” Sure, if she has magic and sisterhood to help her she might have an extra boost, but no assistance comes without a cost. Hence Texas’ almost entirely solitary life.
“The Falls has need of members with drive though. Members, I think, like you.” He might be a terrible recruiter, that’s true. It might be because he’s surrounded by his least favorite things, or it might be that the creak in his bones is finally getting to him. “We also have control of the waterfall, of course, if that sort of thing appeals to you. Healing waters, and all that.”
Camrynn comes slinking into the group, bringing with her a slimy feeling in the pit of Scorch stomach (and others, it would seem). She asks if there’s room for more, giving cause for Scorch to nearly construct a phrase which will get this message across: no. Alas, Camrynn inserts herself into the conversation more quickly than a striking viper, leaving Scorch to smile slightly and avert her gaze to Astri. Though no decision has yet been made regarding the Deserts and Amazon’s alliance, unease and foreboding lay with Scorch. Considering Camrynn’s incredibly deceitful ways, she’s earned the right to be distrusting.
”A pleasure, Astri.” Scorch says amiably. While the large group is rather uncomfortable, she retains utmost composure in light of her potential recruit. ”I’m sorry to hear that. Too many foals are these days. I’m glad you were able to pull through.” Her words are sincere – having been a mother five-fold, she understands more than any others here what it means to be a mother. ”But please, if you are comfortable with such informalities, Scorch will do.” A smile.
A Chamberling arrives, but Scorch pays her no mind. The girl is rather rambling, and a little… Strange. Still, her presence is more welcome here than some, but Scorch has business here. So she simply offers the woman a nod.
Texas says his piece, poking entirely unwelcome fun to the ‘Zons. Such misconstrued ideas, it makes the queen sick. Flicking her sparse, nearly non-existent tail irritably, Scorch returns her full attention the exotically coloured mare. ”The ‘Zons is a kingdom of only women, so you pass the test quite easily.” She jokes with a grin, revealing razor sharp teeth. ”But we also offer family. I’m assuming you know of the oath, as it is common knowledge to those native to Beqanna. That being said, the oath is not mandatory. You can serve for as long as you wish without swearing yourself to the Jungle. But, if a pledge is what you seek, the Jungle offers one full heartedly. The sisters remember each mare to come, and especially those who raise themselves to excellence.” She dips her head respectfully. ”I am convinced that you, Astri, have potential for such excellence.”
Well, in any situation where someone is going to be a lie, it's always going to be Camrynn. Astri is not wrong to be a little bit uncomfortable around her – she's the only one among their little gathering who could wipe the other three off the face of Beqanna (and the planet) without warning and without so much as moving a muscle.
Wonderful thing, magic.
But she isn't, and she doesn't, and she won't. That would give Scorch far too much satisfaction. She can feel the other woman's seething anger at her, and she entirely understands and sympathizes and fully intends to rub it in a little bit. She offers the Amazon queen a gentle, earnest smile, looking her way delicate eyes during a lull in the conversation.
When Astri addresses Camrynn, the black mare chuckles gently and shakes her head. "Very perceptive, and very accurate." the black mare doesn't miss the implication, nor does she miss the woman's coldness toward her. Oh well, nothing to be done other than try her best. "No need to call me your grace, Astri. I'm not that formal. Just Camrynn will do, or Cam, if you prefer." Her voice is earnest, friendly. She doesn't mind the trappings of queenship, but she doesn't need it. The respect is nice, but she earns respect in ways far more interesting than simply being the queen of a kingdom. And then she is silent, letting the girl speak, knowing that it is the way of Beqanna that the conversation will circle around between the others, only eventually coming back to her. Even with the interruption of the Chamberling – and oh, wouldn't it be interesting to sojourn into her mind – that is still the way of it.
The question she's asked is an interesting one, almost as interesting as the answers that Texas and Scorch give. Camrynn is not surprised that the old stallion throws a barb at the Amazons – he likes them almost as much as Covet does, which is to say, about as far as he can throw them (which is not very far, considering horses don’t have arms). And before long, the conversation has circled round again and it's Camrynn's turn.
"A kingdom isn't really about pledges of servitude." Her voice is quiet, earnest. "They're about family. I'm sorry you never had family growing up, but you might yet know what it's like through one of our kingdoms." she smiles gently. And yes, she did include the others – the Deserts may be the best, in her opinion, but she knows that the girl will find kinship whichever one of them she chooses to go with. "The Deserts is…" she pauses for a moment, staring off into the distance as she thinks "A family. A lot of our residents are very family-oriented, and many of them live there with their families." she thinks of Yael and her children.
"But it is also a thriving kingdom, one where you could make yourself whatever you want to be. The Deserts does not judge; our people are willing to let you discover who you are amongst friends, to make the choices you want to make, and decide who you want to be. And we'll be okay with whoever, or whatever that is." she smiles gently.
"The Deserts also has a long memory. There is a tree in our oasis dedicated to Vanquish, our former king." She pauses again, her voice quiet. "The sands don't forget."
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
Well aren’t they all just the perfect little spokesponies? Shaytan sticks out like a sore thumb with her too-wide smile and too-bright eyes, sudden starts and awkward pauses. She lingers, unwanted and practically unheard. But my god, is she persistent.
She wants to make Straia proud.
Proud enough to smile on her again. Pround enough to touch her on the shoulder encouragingly.
The other Queen is dismissive and haughty and pays little (big) Shaytan no mind. She is not her Queen, she is not her pretty spotted thing. The womans-Queen is nothing to her.
Shaytan is more like Texas, theoretically speaking. Her home is not magical, and they don’t have to take oaths. It’s actually a bit of a ruin in the midst of resuscitation, which she chooses to gloss over. “The Chamber doesn’t require oaths either. We’re like… two families rolled into one. Our Queen and her family and me and my… brother.” Only her side is super dysfunctional and the other side seems to flow rather smoothly. “We don’t have any fancy tricks, but hey, who actually needs that shit?” Shaytan laughs as if the notion of magic and traits and all those fancy things were merely bribes for the rest of the world to try and lure others in to their kingdoms.
For reals, yo. The Chamberlings (what a quaint name, by the way) were not swayed by the promise of traits or the healing waters or anything like that.
Then again, they were also few in number. So… maybe that shit worked after all. What did she care? And as an afterthought - “Oh, and we have lots of trees. Not just one.” She’s acting like a child, and even sticks her tongue out at the black mare. Just a little.
Shaytan
and every time she knocks I can't help but let her in
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