"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
A small smile made its way onto smooth scar-less lips as the younger stallion , Nymphetamine, spoke to her in a rough tone making her spine tingle in a good way, she wanted to experience it again. "It is a pleasure to meet you Nymphetamine, may I say your name is a bit of a mouth full. Do you mind if I call you Nymph?" the chestnut mare asked her head cocking to the side a fraction and a small smile playing at the corners of her lips and her wide unique eyes sparkling with a soft hint of humor at her own words. The mahogany stallion asked her what she was doing out today and she shook her head and smirked. "Well my herd land, Echo Fall, was getting slightly crowded one of the other mares brought a foal with out asking Kii, our lead stallion, and I figured there was a drama going to unfold. So I decided to come here and meet new equines like myself. I am not really fond of drama. Not my forte" she said getting a slightly far away look in her eyes but she quickly rights herself and smiles pleasantly at the young stallion before her.
"I really don't know much of the Gates other than the fire. I know nothing of the lands. I have not ventured there myself" she said swishing her long tail and looking over to Magnus and smiled as he made the youngness of the stallion very clear as he talked about trying to get Nymph to join the Gates. It seems like they were getting along fine like old pals making fun of each-others ages. She chuckled slightly the sound like bells on the wind. "I hope I am not intruding gentlemen" She said realizing she just thrust herself into their conversation.
The darkened tip of perked forward, as Magnus spoke. There is something his laid back presence is hiding, it could be something small, or something grand. The young stallion was not sure, but his broad answers to specific questions told the him there was more to the story. Nymphetamine is not one to pry but who would not go to this heavenly place if there is hell waiting for him. He is not against hard work. While he would have been heir before he fled his old home, he was told if he hadn't earned it, there would be a regent. He would earn the title, like anyone else. The blood stag was proud of his work ethic, it helped him know himself.
Sharp pools took focus on the lass. She seemed to be cordial to the sandy stag and himself but here eyes lingered on him more so than the sandy stag. He was young, but not clueless-- there could be something there. The blood bay tilted his head, as she asked about his name. He choked back a full on guffaw. Only his mother had ever called him 'Nymph' and after he was weaned he had began begging her not to call him that. "Nymph" always seemed so girly-- River spirits, and baby bugs and what have you. If the fae had been elderly, maternal, then maybe he'd allow it. But he didn't think of this fae that way, and wasn't in a hurry to start.
I am sorry Keeva, I mean no disrespect, nor do I laugh at you. My mother has been the only one to call me Nymph, and it was only because i could not stop her. Nymph has always struck me as feminine and I have no wish for you to see me as such, nor do i wish to view you as my mother.
The frankness of the statement was ridiculous enough to make him chuckle at himself. The laugh rolled through his body and he shook his head as if that made everything clear and in a more....suave fashion. As he gained his composure his tones were lighter as he began to speak- the laugh still floating away through his words.
If it wouldn't be too much of a hindrance, I'd prefer Nymphetamine...all things considered.
He flashed a grin. What else could he do. Pupils contracted and his smile faded as the lass spoke of the fire.... The Gates had a fire too? Was this what was behind the slight flicker in Magnus's eye? the reason he wasn't too direct?
I doubt the stag will talk free with the lass here, and I need to talk to him more, about his lands' history if I am to go to the gates.
The lass knew as well as he that their conversation would continue later, elsewhere. as if they had the thought at the same time... or at least he hoped they did...she asked if she were intruding. Nymphetamine shook his head kindly.
nay, miss. You are not intruding. But you have brought to light something I think best discussed privately. May I come find you in the meadow later? After we finish?
The diplomate came through for him this time, his tones rang clear, deep and confident. He much expected she would be willing to talk further, just later, alone. His eyes and turned to focus solely on the stag. He had things to tell him, and a question that not be answered vaguely.
Oldman, I think we have some news we best share with each other
He tone was serious and straight forward. He had a decision to make, but needed directness... sooner rather than later.
The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine
They see him: Blood Bay
Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian
They Run From Him at: 16.2
He’s made it this far: 2 years
Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up.
Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain....
So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again
Bared on your tomb
I'm a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon
Come above onto me?
For once upon a time
On the binds of your lowliness
I could always find the slot for your sacred key
Six feet deep is the incision
In my heart, that barless prison
Discoulours all with tunnel vision
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Magnus cannot say that he truly understands the nature of herd politics having never been involved in one. He was kingdom born and raised, something that could be seen in the military way he held himself and the sometimes regal manner in which he approached people; there was not an inch of him that was not bred to be a soldier. But, all the same, he smiles politely at Keeva as she eludes to the drama of the herd, nodding his head with the faintest of laughs. “That does indeed sound crowded.” He rolls one scarred shoulder briefly. “I am happy that we can provide a respite from such drama.”
The buckskin stallion then falls silent, watching with detached amusement as the two flirted with one another. He was not immune to the pleasures of female company (in fact, he often preferred it), and he did not begrudge Nymphetamine his time with the lass. If the blood bay was new to these lands, Magnus was sure that he would be eager to find more friends—or someone who could perhaps develop into something more. Who was he stop the man from trying to enjoy himself with the pretty mare? So he didn’t.
Of course, he also did not miss the way he tenses when Keeva mentioned the fire, and Magnus wonders briefly at it—he had, after all, just discussed the attack on the Chamber that had burned their ground. He dismisses that though, knowing such details could sometimes strike you harder upon the second hearing. Nodding politely in goodbye to Keeva as Nymphetamine dismissed her, his face alters just slightly—the features becoming sterner, the mouth grimmer. “Indeed, tenderfoot, although I would ask just what news you would like to hear.” He pauses, “If this is about the fire she mentioned, it is the same from the attack I spoke of earlier. The Chamber sent magic wielders—fire and plant manipulators—to burn our kingdom and poison our plants. They then kidnapped our Queen and are holding her as their hostage.”
Magnus taking a deep breath, feeling bitterness flood his mouth before continuing. “We are currently safe, but we are doing everything we can to build alliances and strengthen our armies internally. Hence my interest in having a soldier like yourself join. If there is anything else that you would like to know, feel free to ask. I have no interest in hiding anything from you or pretending the Gates is something it is not.”
Nymphetamine looked over the stag, he had heard him say that Chamber had attacked them, but he had not known of the fires. It resonated deep in him. Fire took his family; fire drove him here. But he wanted to know what lead to the attacks why did they happen at all? Sometimes raids happen, just for kings to prove themselves worthy. But large scale attacks many times are deeper than that. There seemed to be more too it that a bored stag wanting to show off.
The blood stallion shook his head slightly, spires swiveling as distant sounds came on the wind. He had not meant place blame or secrecy on the olderstag- he just had more information to discuss. things that were coming together, that may be helpful or useful.
Nay, Oldman. you do not speak falsely. I wish not to imply otherwise, I am curious what happened before Chamber raided. How did your feud begin?
The connections to those he had already met were forming and the meaning of his position within this knowledge could be beneficial to him, or to others. How he used this information could be monumental for the life he would create here. He had to watch himself- or he would end up with no one at his back.
Yes I have information....or maybe more of a proposal that might be of interest to you...maybe even your king. But public spaces would be ill suited for private friendly business, shall we take this to a place where listening ears are less likely?
Nymphetamine knew nothing of the king of gates, and his willingness to take the path he is considering is largely due to the old stag, Magnus. There was something trust-worthy about him, and for now that is all he needed to know to take this step-- to dare to move towards danger.
The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine
They see him: Blood Bay
Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian
They Run From Him at: 16.2
He’s made it this far: 2 years
Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up.
Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain....
So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again
Bared on your tomb
I'm a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon
Come above onto me?
For once upon a time
On the binds of your lowliness
I could always find the slot for your sacred key
Six feet deep is the incision
In my heart, that barless prison
Discoulours all with tunnel vision
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Discussing the feud between the Gates and the Chamber was nothing more than a study of bullies. Despite his deep-rooted ties there, Magnus saw the Chamber as it currently was—and it was nothing more than the power hungry and the bored seeking an easy target. The Gates had been that target. At the time of the attack, the Gates had been one of the quietest kingdoms around with one of the smallest armies; it made sense that the Chamber would attack them. How could one soldier fight against the raid alone? There was nothing honorable about the attack, and there was certainly nothing to brag about.
The whole mess made Magnus’ stomach turn.
“The Chamber was bored and looking for someone to take that out on,” Magnus finally responds, rolling his scarred shoulder. “They wanted to flex their muscles—make a statement, and it worked. They gained a small name for themselves by attacking a sleepy kingdom with, at the time, a one-man army. But it won’t work again. I won’t let it.” His eyes flashed dangerously, and like every time he thought about the attack, he bitterly wished he had been around to fight against them. It was one of his biggest regrets.
His ears perked slightly at Nymphetamine’s elusive proposal, his mouth grim in thought. He had barely met the other stallion, and it certainly was dangerous to simply trust him at his word, but he was intrigued—and perhaps foolishly, he trusted him. So he nodded. “Alright, I will hear you out.” He took a step back, nodding toward the border. “I can show you to the Gates and we can converse more there.” He knew that the other stallion had not agreed to join the kingdom and their ranks, but it was a step in that direction.
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