"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
07-17-2016, 11:29 PM (This post was last modified: 08-06-2016, 02:25 PM by Baymax.)
BAYMAX
Ahh, blissful silence. Odd, that. He supposed that being deaf should mean it's always quiet. However, he lived with a telepathic father and a handful of equally tele-gifted siblings, among an even larger number of differently-gifted other siblings. He was definitely part of a massive, cheerful family that was overflowing with compassion and understanding. Everyone cared deeply for each other, and endured the ups and downs of life together.
They often came to see him, as if checking on him like an invalid, chattering away in his mind about their day and their various relationships. Some would try to coax the same sort of conversation out of him, but usually learned it was hopeless. Or one of the telepathic would translate internally for him if they were among those who couldn't similarly communicate, and also speak for him if he chose to form a reply. It wasn't that he didn't care, of course, he loved his family. But he quickly learned to enjoy what little peace he had, for they always seemed to come three or more at a time.
Perhaps it was naive to take for granted such a gift. He was deaf, but knew the sounds of language within his mind rather than through his ears. He could even respond back clearly, with a telepath present. How many others could say that?
The young stallion lounged lazily in a patch of wildflowers, the warmth of the afternoon gently heating his side. Yellow-buckskin coat mixed like an artist's palette with tobiano splashes of white. His legs and hair were a deep espresso brown, with one hind coronet lipped in white. His coloring stood out in the dark green around him like a daylight-happy sunflower. Yeah, a sunflower, thats what he was. Sunny-yellow and dark brown, eager for the noon rays; and silent, too. He huffed a light chuckle, blowing dusts of pollen into the air from a nearby flower, and passively watching the specks float ever-so gradually down to the soil.
The colors seemed so bright and vivid here, all these different muilticolored flowers. He was uncertain if everyone saw things this way, or if perhaps his lack of one sense boosted others like his sight. Or the scents; crisp and light like mother nature's own perfume. He had heard it was possible, however he didn't really put much stock in the matter. More than likely it was a fantasy of his daydreaming, a pigment of his imagination. He chuckled softly again. It sure was nice here..
Wolves in our own skin, we're savages. We act so primitive.
I love all my sisters. Halo and her fierce enthusiasm, Luna and her quiet ways and knowing silver-grey eyes. But Fury has a special place in my heart, and has since the day Grams and Uncle Zu brought her into the world. She was the first one I got to cuddle, the first baby sister I got to fuss over and play with her scruffy little baby mane and listen to her heart beating.
It’s not just that she was the first, though, because that would be a silly reason. No, all three of them have a special person, one who’s theirs just a little bit more than everybody else is. Halo lights up any time she sees our uncle. Luna would rather cuddle with Papa than anyone else in the world. And I think I’m kind of Fury’s. Which makes me feel ridiculously special
And it’s one of the reasons for our wandering little adventure. I want some one on one time with my best girl. And I have to find a way to tell her that I’m...not leaving, exactly. But that I won’t be home quite as much for cuddles and playtime and stories, and happy little excursions, and long meandering walks through our herd land where we talk about anything and everything.
Oh, I’ll still be home part time. But splitting my time and attention between Echo Trails and a kingdom means a bit less time for all that loveliness. I haven’t even left yet and I miss it already.
“Are you excited to meet our new baby cousin?” I ask, gently bumping my shoulder against Fury’s as we walk. Aunt Ryss still has a ways to go, but she’s starting to show now--much to her dismay. Apparently when she was carrying Tycho she barely looked pregnant until much closer to the birth. She’s eyed both Uncle and Grams suspiciously and asked them more than once if they’re sure she’s not carrying twins.
And she’s still got ages to go before she gives birth.
I don’t know, though. I’ve seen pregnant mares around, and some of them look much bigger than Aunt Ryss, sides all bulgey, sometimes you can even see the baby kicking! If you walk past at the right time, anyhow. Grams just laughs and gently reassures her that no, there’s just the one, and sends that lovely healing energy of hers washing over Aunt Ryss and soothing all the little aches and pains and tangling hormones.
I can’t wait to meet the baby. Ohhh I should wait to leave until after the birth, I don’t want to miss it!
We walk on through the Meadow, exploring a few corners we haven’t reached before, and in our wandering we come across a rather adorable painted buckskin stallion lounging in some flowers. The breath of his quiet laughter makes the flowers in front of his face dance and shed pollen, and I wonder what it is that brought such a lovely smile to his face. “He’s cute, don’t you think?” I murmur to Fury, grinning and nodding toward the boy. “Should we go say hello?”
Oh, she’ll say yes. But if she doesn’t, we’re going in anyhow. “Hi there,” I call, veering off our meandering path and heading right for the stranger with a friendly smile on my face. “I’m Dara, and this is my sister Fury. What’s your name?”
There is absolutely nothing more exciting than going on adventures with my sister. Our dads don't much like it when we wander from home, especially me because I was still so young and breakable, but they relented when I batted my eyes at them. Silly dads. They should know better than that, we almost always get our ways unless there is a strain of a possibility of big time hurting happening. In which case it's a flat-out no.
Daddy and Papa were the greatest dad's out there, so even when they were both a tad overprotective...well of course I still loved them. It could get a little exasperating sometimes but I think sometimes out of all my siblings, I was the one that gave in first to them. If they wanted me to stay home, I would, usually, but not today. Today was a BIG GRAND ADVENTURE....even if it was only to the Meadow where I have been a hundred, thousand times already.
On those days when I snuck out without our Dads or our sisters. Insert cheesy grin here.
I loved our family. So much sometimes it made my heart hurt. Sassy Halo. Stealthy Luna. Comforting Dara. Grandma and her stories. Our dads and their cuddles. Uncle Zu and Auntie Ryss and Tycho. We had a good thing and from what I have gathered, a very unique thing. Our family was very time and close-knit...well like most of it. We have other uncles and aunts we didn't know much about.
Anyways....Sister time. Focus Fury.
"Absolutely. Auntie Ryss said she feels like it's a girl." I grin. "I bet this one is mouthy like both of them." I smirk, stepping over a large branch with a small hop before my ears flicker. I twist my head to see what she's talking about and I smile with a nod. "He is kind of squishy adorable..." I trail and switch direction the moment she does. My shoulder touches against her occasionally, out of comfort than fear. I wasn't afraid of the boy playing in the flowers.
I really just like touching my sister.
When she introduces us, I just smile and wait with my head tilted like Tycho would do when studying something. I take a smaller step forwards, stretching out my nose towards his, thankful that most of the pollen had fluttered off already. It makes my nose tickle. I can feel the remnants of some of it in the air already making my nose twitch a little. But I reach out to blow soft breaths into his nose and hope he's friendly.
Heat radiated from his skin as the sun continued its downpour of warmth and like a veteran caramelized beach-babe he knew it was time to switch sides. He stretched his legs out beside him in the most lackadaisical way, in no hurry to move even though his side baked uncomfortably now. In a way, this was his day off. He successfully escaped the walls of worry his family seemed to surround him with, and was on his own for at least until one of them came and found him. With a great heave of effort, the most he'd expended thus far today, he closed his eyes and flopped most inelegantly to his other half. He gave a quiet sigh of contentment and felt his cooled skin begin to tingle as the heat tried to remedy the lack of warmth there.
So at ease was he, that he only half-heartedly wondered if his latest nursemaid would show up to check on him soon and interrupt his languid sun-bathing. He wasn't a child, but with such an outgoing family there must be something wrong with him to choose to be alone. He didn't see himself as alone so much as simply away from the titters and tatters and tut-tuts of family fussing over him. He peeked through a heavy-lidded eye and sure enough, almost as if he could sense them, a long shadow stretched out like a creepy finger coming to poke him as a figure drew near. Ah, here they are now. Perhaps a cousin or sister come to check on him. Those were fun; so easily flustered with his childish antics. A little smile hid in the corner of his mouth.
Fair morn, thy great Guardian, he thought dramatically in a slow theatrical drawl, in case it was one of the telepaths, lifting his head then dropping it in a lazy salute for emphasis. Has thou been sent to rouse the beast, then?
He waited a few moments but received no response; not a telepath then. He remained still, pretending not to have noticed them approaching, and soaked up what was left of his solitude. When the figure was close enough to block out the sun, he flattened his skull to the ground and angled his chin up, looking at them upside-down. With the sun so bright, all he could see was a silhouette though, and he tilted his nose back a little further to force the sun's angle behind the shadowy mass. He smiled politely at whoever his newest chaperone would be today, wondering how on earth he could ruin the next five minutes of their life.
As the shadowy values began to come into focus on her face, that's when he realized three things. He didn't now this person, for one. Also, he thought maybe she had asked him a question, because her face looked a little expectant. Had he been paying attention, he probably could've read her lips or guessed at the general line of conversation, (how many different greetings are there, anyway, right?) but alas. And thirdly, there were two of them. A smaller one, that's odd. But just as he thought it, the smaller silhouette continued closer, growing larger and larger.
Little more... liiittle moorree.... Ah, there we go. Now you're the same size. The closest figure huffed lightly at him, and a little puff of baby breath tickled his nose, just a hint of that milky sweet undertone only foals had. I know this game. He grinned a lopsided grin and his eyes glittered with mischief. Slowly, he pulled in a good long breath, filling his lungs to capacity. He could see it already; he'd blow out his breath through his nose and icky spittle would sprinkle all over her little face. She'd squeal and her expression would be priceless! Girls were so easy to get a rise out of! He could already feel laughter bubbling up just imagining it, (it was so good!), and before he could follow through with his boyish prank, he could contain it no longer; his lungs burst in a roar of laughter.
He laughed and laughed, and as he rolled to his belly, tucking his rear legs beneath him, he laughed some more. Oh man, he thought breathlessly, you should've seen the look on your face! His head tilted thoughtfully for a moment. Or, what it would have looked like anyway. And his laughter resumed. It didn't matter to him that he was talking to himself, or even making a fool of himself in front of strangers. That usually made things funnier because others would think him odd and make comically confused little faces at him.
He turned his attention to the older of the two; she didn't seem to throw off overly-protective maternal waves but was still very much the guardian, so perhaps a sister? He met her gaze and held it as he brought his legs beneath him and slowly stood up, his eyes flecked with curiosity. He would've preferred lounging about as he was, but it was firmly rooted within him to stand when greeting a lady. Thanks, dad. He took a moment to appreciate the contrast between her nearly-monochromatic coat and the variation of color in the grass and flowers surrounding her. And like a simpleton, he just waited and stared at her.
Wolves in our own skin, we're savages. We act so primitive.
I grin at Fury, in complete agreement. “Absolutely. I hope Auntie Ryss is right, and if the baby’s a girl she’d better have twice the sass, to balance out Tycho. It’s only fair, after all. I think dads’ll think Uncle Pazuzu’s cheating if he gets off easy on the mouthy kids front again, especially since they’ve got the four of us to deal with. Hell, Halo’s feisty enough for four all on her own.”
Squishy adorable is right, the boy’s rolling around in flowers and it’s about the cutest damn thing. Especially when he tilts his head to look at us upside down and smiles. I can’t help but grin back at him, though odds are he can’t see it well since Fury and I are between him and the sun.
Our shoulders brush as we walk, and I smile and lip at my sister’s mane affectionately. You’re pretty fantastic, you know that? And equally adorable is the way she stretches out to sniff at the new boy, exchanging breath and making first contact.
The squishy adorable boy draws in a deep breath, and then bursts out laughing, rolling and slowly climbing to his feet. And then he just stares, waiting for...something. I tilt my head, puzzled, studying him. Maybe he didn’t hear me? So I shrug, smile, and repeat myself. “Hi there. I’m Dara, and that’s Fury,” I add with a nod toward my sister. “What’s your name?”
He was certainly was an odd little creature wasn't he? He inhales a breath and I know what he is going to do just as he was about to do it. Halo pulls stunts like this occasionally and my eyes narrow in expectation. But he's bursting out in laughter before he actually finishes the trick and I roll my gaze back to my sister with a shrug. Squishy adorable...but odd. I kind of like it.
He rolls to his feet and I'm still close enough to him to touch and sniff so I do. Forget boundaries, if the imp can plan pranks than I am going to muddle his personal space...if he had any. I sniff along his neck and I tug experimentally on his mane before I wander around the rest of him, only to come up on his other side. Huh. He smelled like flowers and grass.
I hesitate along his barrel, my eyes flickering to his face as I try to figure out what was off about him. After all, he hadn't even spoken to us yet and....why weren't his ears flickering?
I step back, really still where he can see me, but I keep my eyes on his ears. I clank my teeth together and then I dig little holes in the grass with my hooves. Making odd little sounds that make Dara's ears flicker back and forth and she can see what I am doing, but his...his don't move.
I bound forwards, touching my lips to his shoulder as I pass. I was a touchy little thing. Always would be likely. I cuddle up to her chest, feeling a little sad that he would never hear the way that the birds chirped in the morning or the hear the way the river bubbles down it's banks. "Dara...I don't think he can hear us."
08-06-2016, 01:56 PM (This post was last modified: 08-06-2016, 02:21 PM by Baymax.)
BAYMAX
Baymax kept his eyes locked on the elder so he wouldn't miss when she spoke. He felt the little filly's breath on his neck as she tested his scent some more, then a yank on his tangled mane. It was hard for him not to watch her actions when she circled to his other side, he depended greatly on his sight, but with some effort he held still. Her light touches were odd but he decided he quite liked them. She made it possible to keep track of her without forcing his attention away from watching his surroundings or, in this case, the mare before him. He wondered why nobody else had thought to treat him this way, but then realized she was just a child and perhaps hadn't yet been taught to give space to others.
It was a shame everyone always grew out of that. It sent a swift twinge of sadness through him thinking she wouldn't always be this way, but it was gone just as quick. His chances of seeing either of them again after this day weren't that likely, so it didn't matter anyway. Besides, it wasn't appropriate; you couldn't rub yourself all over just anyone all willy-nilly afterall, especially as a woman. Yes, best she grew out of it he supposed.
His body found the sudden silence of her touches surprisingly hard to bear as she backed away from him, now on his other side. He could see her in the corner of his eye and had to fight not to look at her and see what she was doing. He could catch subtle movements after she stilled. The curiosity was absolutely killing him. Some relief came though as the mare addressed him and he could release his vigil on her. He wasn't that great at his lip-reading, but had enough practice to get the gist of her speech.
His eyes flew back to the filly again, but whatever she was doing she must have already finished as she trotted past him, lipping at his shoulder as she passed. His skin tingled at her quick contact. She kept forward and rubbed up to her mare and spoke, but he didn't catch it, so he turned his attention back to the elder of the two.
A hello. A name. Another name with a nod to the child. A question.
That was easy enough. He grimaced though as he remembered his sisters laughing at his voice when last he tried to speak. His father had gone through great pains to teach him to shape his own words in case he ever needed it, but he knew something about it was off somehow. And terribly entertaining to sisters.. He'd practiced his name enough in his childhood that it shouldn't have sounded too badly..he hoped.
"Baymax", he responded shortly. His voice was louder than necessary and had a low drone to it. He'd never know what it sounded like but he hoped it wouldn't cause the same reaction that his sisters had responded with. He told himself he wouldn't let it get to him if it did though.
Wolves in our own skin, we're savages. We act so primitive.
The boy’s a strange one, but strange isn’t exactly a new concept to either of us. Fury is bold in her approach, curious touches and playing with his mane, and why shouldn’t she be? For all that our dads have warned us of the dangers of life here in Beqanna, we’ve yet to really encounter any of them. Or even anyone particularly unpleasant.
So I can’t say I’m surprised when she touches him like one of our own, quiet little brushes of her muzzle, sniffing him without hesitation or fear that she’ll be invading his personal space or anything silly like that. Tycho’s the only one of us really who has ever expressed a need for such things anyhow. And this boy seems nothing like our Tycho with his silent, watchful eyes and rarely exhibited dry sense of humor.
The boy doesn’t seem to mind, so I smile and watch my sister work, exploring him and...apparently testing a theory. I tilt my head, a gesture we’ve all picked up from Tycho at this point I think, and my ears swivel to catch the sounds she makes as she clicks her teeth together and paws at the ground.
Ohhh, but it makes sense soon enough, and isn’t she just a clever girl? “Ohhh.” That would explain why he didn’t answer the first time. And it explains the stillness of his ears, a quirk I didn’t notice until Fury pointed out the possibility that the sounds that make mine rotate and perk up are perhaps not audible for him.
And too, it explains the strange tone to his voice, the way he speaks just a little too loud, the grimace on his face as my question begs an answer. So I smile again, and then instead of replying, I stretch my neck, reaching out so I can take in his scent, exchange a breath, and say hello, it’s nice to meet you without words.
