"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
Although she had traveled to Nerine and casted herself into it’s castes, for one must try on a kingdom to see if it will fit, she had not forgotten the dark stallion with the flaming red eyes. The way his words had sparked at something more then a recruitment, had reminded her of things she had tried so hard to forget. So she takes to the skies for a shorter trip and heads towards his kingdom, Tephra.
She soars over clear sparkling ocean, this endless expanse of water so new to her and so fascinating. Not often does the jaguar roam a beach, it was so different from what she was use to. There is a rare glint of delight in the depths of gold as dolphins follow her trail, spinning up from the surface and sending a spray of briny water to splash lightly against her belly. She adores her wings, beautiful ebony feathers so supple and sleek, she feels as if she has always had them. Dipping slightly in the sky, the tips of black wings grazing the curving waves beneath her before she rises higher towards the sun.
It’s a beautiful day, sunny and bright. Light warms her backside as the volcanic island comes into view. She flaps her wings, picking up speed as she hones in on the white sandy beach. Lowering herself gradually, she lands gracefully in the surf. Jaguar dapples glinting against the glaring reflection of surf and sand, trotting out of the water and towards the heart of the kingdom.
Oh she knows tradition and respect but she doesn’t wait at the border. He had invited her as a guest after all. There is mischief in her eyes, a rare giddiness for the unknown and from such a spectacular trip. A low call escapes her lips, she looks for him. Looks for the enigmatic image of the man who had dared to stoke her curiosity.
You're looking at an absolute zero; I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
Solitude. He preferred it, more often than not - he preferred to settle into the stifling silence and burden of his thoughts, mending a heart frayed and tattered by time and its cruel fate. He had fleeting moments of sociability, but found that he festered best in isolation. It was not often he had a moment to himself, however - the weight of the crown of thorns he wore was difficult to ignore, though he was at times grateful for the distraction and reprieve it provided from his self-loathing.
He is stirred from his heavy, darkening thoughts by the echo of a distantly familiar voice calling for him – he is loath to answer it, for the warmth of the bubbling magma oozing from the surface of the fertile soil is all the company that he is willing and able to withstand, but eventually, he wrenches himself away from the intense heat and into the heart of the volcanic isle. It is not long until his dark eyes settle upon the source - the fading sunlight is flush against the dappling of jaguar markings across a deep, russet canvas, and soon his own gaze is settled upon her as his thick, muscular legs carry him towards her.
He cannot suppress the faint simper tugging at the corner of his mouth - she was a spitfire; he had seen that much during their brief introduction. She is no different, bathing beneath the warm, unyielding sunlight of midday while long tendrils of greenery lap lazily at her slender limbs - she cares not for the invisible border, and presses past it with unshakable confidence. He might have flinched, if it were any other (he had grown tired and irate with the number of violations as of recent - too many traipsed in with no respect, no forethought) - but there is a bubbling of contentment upon seeing her.
He is intrigued - drawn to her like a delicate moth to the flame, though it is he, himself, that blisters with the fierce inferno fluttering within his chest, and she is far more delicate than he. Alas, with a faint sheen of sweat lingering on the surface of his marred skin, he emerges from the shadow of the eastern side of the island, loping towards her with a glint of curiosity in his eye. She may have chosen the far western corner of Nerine for her own, but she had found herself amid the thick ash and humidity after all, with his name on the darkness of her lips.
He could only imagine what brought her to the island.
"Tantalize," he muses softly, pausing before her while the darkness of his crimson gaze bores into her own. "I did not think that you would come, and so soon - bored of Nerine already?"
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world
For a moment it seems he will not come. Perhaps his kingdom is to blame, ruling often took up most of one’s time. It was one of the few things she didn’t miss, now she had plenty of time for her interests. Time to be selfish and explore what made her truly happy instead of worrying about everyone else’s needs. Her wings expand and flutter slightly, ready to take flight once more when she spots the shadow in the distance.
There is still the same thrill of excitement that shivers through her russet body when she spots his glowing red gaze. It’s hard to pinpoint if it’s because of the unknown or if it’s sparked by remembrance. Amber meets fire as he closes down between them and she is caught feeling suddenly wary. This had been her idea, to seek him out. Yet that hard wall she had built up brick by brick was loathe to tumble down when it was only their second meeting. The faint smile that brushes her lips is welcome enough, guarded eyes still garnering some dark hint of amusement for the Tephra stallion.
His body shines with beads of sweat, he is everything she remembered him being. And more. ”Nerine has it’s moments, I’ve found I quite like the coast.” She responds teasingly, a chink in her armor. How he is able to so easily draw her out is beyond her. It’s as if she can feel the fire within him reaching out to her own stone heart. A threat to heat the stone and renew her once more. It doesn’t make sense, she barely knows the man. As for Nerine she has grown to love the ocean, watching it fills up most of her time. It soothes a piece of her that had long been restless.
”However I would hate to leave you in suspense and figured it couldn’t hurt to see Tephra.” Already the humidity clings to her dappled coat but she doesn’t mind it, she embraces it. Although she has grown use to the colder region of the beach, the jungle was never far from thought. The suffocating heat brings back long lost memories. ”Show me your kingdom.” A bold and brass demand softened by the faint amused smile she casts on him. A demand echoed in her mind but slightly tweaked. Show me who you are.
You're looking at an absolute zero; I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
There is a flicker of light in her gaze, as her own focuses upon his, boring into him as he had already begun to do to her. A glimmer of mischief, perhaps, or a gleam of warmth – he could not yet say; she seemed as unpredictable and as strong-willed as the tempestuous storm that had ravaged the island no more than a fortnight ago. As her finely preened feathers bristle and flatten once more across the hollow plane of her wing, he is reminded once more of the gale force wind that had tangled itself within the thickness of his matted tresses – a force to be reckoned with, and he is no fool – he can see that she is no less breathtaking than it had been.
He cannot deny her beauty. She is slender, and carved of shapely muscle and a seemingly flawless bone structure – her hip was heavy and rounded with femininity, and he would be loath to admit his gaze had not lingered longer than it should have when she had chosen her fate and sought refuge to the west, to Nerine. She was far from coy – her bold and glistening gaze had held him steady, captivated, and even now, he is titillated by the confidence and bravado of her stature, and the self-assured and borderline demanding tone of voice.
He was a towering force of heavy muscle, thick bone, and scar tissue layered upon dark, pitchless skin – not many dared speak to him without treading carefully, but he is not at all the beast of fire and brimstone he is seen to be. Upon her brash and daring demand, there is a gleam of amusement stirring within the flickering ember of his darkened, reddened eyes, while a rumbling chuckle is pulled from somewhere deep within, where the fire burns brightest. With a gentle and fleeting nudge of his cheek pressed against the crook of her jaw, he is gesturing her away from the wild and tumultuous sea, and to the rumbling hearth of the isle – the pluming, towering volcano, itself.
”Nayl and I do not see eye to eye,” he says after a moment of thought, glancing to her with a trace of amusement in his voice, deliberately slowing his hefty and elongated stride to match her own. ”I do not anticipate an alliance being forged between Tephra and Nerine in foreseeable future, but I suppose I could be moved to make an exception for one,” he says, his voice a rumbling baritone, a gleam of teeth shown with a crooked grin. ”should you inevitably grow tired of it and seek refuge elsewhere, however temporary.”
And then, suddenly, the humor is gone –
”You ruled the Amazons for a time?” he inquires, though it is more of a statement. His gaze is settled upon the shadow of the volcano once more, while the vegetation is parted around the girth of their bodies, revealing a large river winding through the island, parting it from a smaller island closer to the wide and open sea to the north. He is quiet, studying his reflection for a moment, stoicism settling where comedic wit had been moments before, and then he is looking unto her own reflection, russet and dappled. ”I ruled the Tundra for the better part of a decade, and I miss it every day. It is difficult, to start over, but we all manage, I suppose – in our own way.”
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world
Shiny feathers the color of coal glisten in the pale light as she ruffles them lightly against her sides, in a way most like her name. It had never been a game to her, to be coy and seduce. It was just a natural feeling, the way she had always been able to converse so flirtatiously with the opposite sex. To be so bold where others were soft spoken. To stand up when others may lay down. She had always been more comfortable in their presence, had gotten along with them so easily. The irony that she had therefore led a kingdom of all mares was not lost on her. Then again it was perhaps these very talents that had made them choose her to begin with.
Amber eyes glance along the broad chest puckered with fleshy scars, giving an almost approving smile as she takes him in. They were both warriors, they would fight instead of flee. There is so much about him that reminds her of others lost. The red eyes of Cross, the faint trace of broodiness that Uncle Magnus had always held (how she misses him, one that had been there for her through the darkest of hours), the warrior of Landen (a worthy opponent, still a shame they had never been able to follow up). And there is something else, something she can’t quite put her finger on.
His laughter sounds like granite stones grinding against each other and she can’t help but grin in response. Even that contains traces of sadness for granite reminds her of a boy made of stone. She would never wear her fractured heart on her sleeve, never again, instead it is tucked deep within her. Sunk into a dark endless ocean, anchored and waiting. For a moment it shifts as he presses his heated cheek to her jaw, her body tense and coiling into the wild creature she is. That moment her breath catches but with decisive fluidity she plays it off, pulling herself away from his touch as those iris’s of gold narrow and contract.
They walk, more like he strides and she prowls, as they begin to head to the billowing smoke of the volcano. As he adjusts his step to match her slinking pace, he begins to speak of Nayl and Nerine. She is silent, a single ear flicked in his direction but she is listening, picking up the threads between the words. Important ones at that. ”Nerine and it’s people are still very new to me so I am quite ignorant when it comes to how they handle their business. What is it about Nayl you do not like? I’d appreciate your candor…”
The depths of gold sparkle at his invitation, a rare lilting laugh escaping from somewhere within her, a light teasing response. ”I will remember that offer although you may come to regret it.” Long grasses stretch to swipe lightly against her barrel, tickling around her legs as they make their way through vegetation. It’s as if a switch has been flicked, suddenly his features grow serious and she follows suit. He asks her of the Amazons and her gaze hardens slightly. ”I did.” She admits thoughtfully, looking towards the shadows of the mountains as she reluctantly begins to recall memories she would pay to forget. ”I was young when I became Khaleesi. I think I did rather well at least at the beginning despite my inexperience. However I had yet to learn how to truly rule a kingdom. I made decisions based on my heart instead of my head.” The words are flat and razor sharp but she is blunt, honest. It had been a hard lesson to learn.
If he asked she would not hide her mistakes or the painful parts of her past that had led to such things. It was history now, all one could do was own it. He speaks of the Tundra and here she can’t help but give her familiar faint smile in response. ”It can be difficult to start over but sometimes it’s for the best.” A pause, looking at him curiously. It couldn’t hurt to ask…”I remember the Tundra well. My father ruled it once, long before I was born. In fact you look rather like him, he had those same red eyes…”
You're looking at an absolute zero; I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
His gaze steadies upon the curve of her wing, tracing the finely preened feathers layered across the broad surface. Each vane gently flutters in the soft, gentle breeze – a warm one, laced with the thick, stifling humidity that often permeated the volcanic island. He is quiet, while his heavy, scarlet eyes following the muscle stirring beneath her dappled skin, where a mottling of jaguar markings lay, wrapped around the length of her slender legs, and draped over the slope of her spine.
He does not pine as he once might have in his youth – he is war-torn, aged mentally, and he had seen and known too much in his time to be so easily distracted by the temptation of sex and carnal desire. Yet, though there is no hunger in his gaze, there is a deep stirring of attraction hidden beneath the surface of his thoughtful gaze; she is beauty, intellect, and brawn encapsulated.
He can feel her own gaze tracing the thick muscle and the deep ridges of his scar tissue. He is usually able to ignore it – it certainly was not the first time that his appearance (foreboding and intimidating, with a dark, fiery gaze, and a blackened, marred physique) had drawn the stare of another – but he cannot suppress the faint inkling of edginess stirring inside of him. He is usually indifferent to his own appearance. He has had many years to adjust to the girth and breadth of his body, and nearly as many to grow apathetic toward the puckered, pink scarring littered across the inkiness of his skin, or the unusual color of his eyes. And yet, he is not indifferent to how she perceives him – and his gaze shadows her own, seeking her approval, yearning for her appreciation. It had been a long while since he had longed for such.
He can see the sudden shift in her mood, as the faint smile worn on her dark lips wanes into a thin, straight line, while her eyes become distant and brooding, reflective of the heavy memory resting as a burden on her mind. When his skin touches her own, she is brought back, stunned and with a hitch in her breath – and though she tilts her cheek away from him with a narrowed gaze, her breathlessness is not lost on him. Alas, it is a fleeting moment, gone as quickly as it had come, and a steady rhythm is found within his hefty stride and her prowling gait. Nerine is mentioned once again, and the memory of Nayl snarling at him, spitting harsh and criticizing words, stirs ire within the tautness of his chest.
He did not respect her.
She was foul-tempered, and immature.
He would tread lightly, though, his words plucked carefully as his gravelly voice expresses only a fraction of the truth.
”She has much to learn about decorum,” he murmurs, his gaze steadied upon the volcano once more while wind more forcefully weaves its way through the thick tendrils of vegetation lapping at his legs. ”and restraint. She chose to belittle me and disrespect me, rather than speak to me as one leader to another. A shame,” he muses, his darkening gaze heavy upon her. ”Nerine could be a force to be reckoned with, with the right leadership.”
He is quiet then, listening to her soft banter (eliciting a deep chuckle from within his chest) and her introspective words; no King or Queen had ever been without flaws. He, most certainly, had many. She is accepting of her own, and there is a faint tug of a smile along the crease of his dark mouth. Deeply buried memories of a love long since lost to him surfaces, lingering in his mind as he reminisces over how such a terrible lack of intimacy and honesty had set the love shared between them into a blistering inferno, leaving little else but ashes and dust in its wake.
He longed for such honesty, for such clarity.
It is a breath of fresh air.
”I was hesitant to begin again, when the Reckoning ravaged the kingdoms. I felt that I had lost so much; that too much had changed. I never thought that I would ever feel as complete as I did within the Tundra, but alas,” he murmurs, his chest rumbling with laughter. ”here I am. As much fire as I ever was ice. The irony is not lost on me.” He pauses then, the heaviness of his gaze searching for her own, listening carefully – he can sense a question hidden within her carefully constructed words, and he shook his head, as his tangled mane fell across his broad forehead.
”My father is dead.”I made sure of it, he doesn’t say, his gaze falling to the stillness of the water before him, studying the deepest scar lain across his chest. Ages old, and faint, but a reminder of a fate he had long ago sealed. ”He has been, for a long, long time – from another land, in another place. Rest assured, there is no relation. My eyes came from my mother,”and there is pang – an ache! He had not thought of her in so long.”rest her soul.”
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world
It was funny, this odd cat and mouse game they play with each other. Neither one wanting to betray what they were thinking, to allude that there was more bubbling beneath the surface of their skin. It had never crossed her mind that she could desire someone again after being so brutally betrayed. Since the day Lion had broken her spirit and her body, she hadn’t been touched again. More importantly, she had locked up any last remnant of feeling. Refusing to ever allow herself in such a position again.
That had been years ago. Part of her had softened a little with the loss of the jungle, all of her mistakes and bad memories swallowed with the rest of the old lands. The stallion that had ruined everything was long gone, fragmented bone and dust blowing on the sands of the beach. That was all he was now, no longer having power over her. For a moment, as her narrowed eye lingers appreciatively over the dark brawny figure of him, she allows herself a rare moment. A what if?
”And you allowed that?” She chuckles softly, not taking Offspring as a stallion that would allow such rude treatment. ”I haven’t really spoken to her yet. I’m interested to see if your perception of her holds up.” Of course she would reserve judgement until she had seen Nayl for herself. However she takes Offy’s words and pockets them for later. His last comment on Nerine not lost upon her either, only a subtle tug of her lips acknowledging she had heard.
The things she valued most in this life was loyalty and honesty. It was all she could rely on. There was no point in pretending she was perfect when she knew fully well she was not, nobody was. She had accepted her flaws, the wrongs she had done. She was still standing, her enemies were not. Obviously she was doing something right.
His laughter rumbles like thunder in his chest and she absently reaches out to him, her dark muzzle brushing lightly against his heated shoulder. Inhaling his scent of ash, brine, and musk. ”You’ve done well.” That thin smile flickering briefly on her lips before pulling away. Their talk turns more serious still as he speaks of his father. It doesn’t do much to rub away at her doubt until he speaks of another land. Offspring wasn’t from here. Why does she feel so relieved? Extending her skull slightly to bump her muzzle against his, lingering for a moment. ”I’m sorry for your loss.”
His pain is evident and she feels genuinely sorry for bringing up the past. While she had never been particularly close with her dam, she had been her only child. They had lost track not long after she had been born, she wasn’t sure if Novae still lived. Cross on the other hand… ”My father is dead too.” Little did she know.
”It was not my intention to bring up things best forgotten.” Her golden gaze moving from him and back towards the volcano. Pushing her own ache deep down within her.
You're looking at an absolute zero; I'm not the devil but I won't be your hero.
”I avoid confrontation when I am able,” he muses softly, his rumbling voice heavy in the humid air while the darkened scarlet of his gaze is settled upon her. ”though I did give her a piece of my mind.” There is a shadow of humor in the crease of his mouth, turned up with a half-hearted smile, though it soon fades away with the rustling of the wind – weaving its way through the tangled tresses that lay strewn across the broad surface of his neck. He is quiet for a moment, attempting to quell the stirring in the back of his mind – he had been spending so much time isolated (a stoic and foreboding presence, and a silent one, all the while) that he had forgotten the contentment that could only be had while in the company of another, and her gentle touch and soft, sultry tone are nothing to balk at.
The thick and rolling muscle beneath his marred flesh begins to rouse with each sweeping forward motion – he is no longer stagnant and still, instead choosing to step forth and enter the stillness of the water that lay before him. It is not shallow, nor is it deep – it does not quite reach his breast, lapping instead at the underside of his barrel as his long, feathered legs tread through the tepid water, submerging his limbs slowly.
His long and tangled tail hovers over the surface, each tendril floating and weaving through the crystalline water with each twitch to and fro – and the matted tresses that lay across his neck become dampened along their knotted ends, while the darkness of his maroon gaze traces the rippling spring, observing her wavering reflection before search the ember hidden away within her own gaze.
There is a moment of silence shared, and he does not swell on her condolences – his mother had been dead for so long, he could hardly remember much of her aside from the vile way she had spat out his name – (Offspring - he was nothing more to her; he was the much-hated product of the very thing that had so grievously devastated Tantalize, though he was none the wiser). His heartache is for what he had never had – and he longed to bury the memory of her and the ache that came with it.
All the while, his heavy gaze is settled upon her, glancing between the gentle curve of her jawline to the mystery lurking within the endless abyss of her eyes. His eyes trace the subtle curve of her hip, and the soft speckling of unusual spots along the slope of her spine. ”And I am sorry for your loss. Our memories are all that we have, at the end of it all,” he utters softly, while an idle ear twitches and turns – while a flicker of a dimly lit flame covers the surface of his exposed skin for a fraction of a second; the same flicker of a fire buried more deeply within. ”but it does not do well to dwell on them. Join me? ” he asks quietly – a deeper rumble than the volcano itself.
OFFSPRING
another zealot with the weight of the fucking world
She expects nothing less, assuming there was a volcano much like the one before them that erupted somewhere within the dark stallion. Magma flowing in the depths of crimson, flowing easily when angered. She can see it so vividly. For a moment a wicked response forms in her mind. “I bet you did.” She thinks, unable to suppress the smirk from her lips. Allowing herself a moment of naughty imagery and then immediately chasing it away. Her emotions always fluctuating, confusing. Unable to allow herself to fully feel them, process them.
Instead she allows herself to focus on the brackish water he enters, away from the scrutiny of his blazing gaze. The heat of it stirring something she had thought long lost. Regarding the still water with some distaste. A slight whip of her raven tail as she tentatively pokes a hoof into the mire. That ghostly smile flitting across her lips as he speaks of not dwelling on the past. Knowing full well how much bullshit that was. As if they thought of anything else.
Sighing softly at the invitation as she reluctantly slips into the water, her wings outstretched to avoid being bogged down. He was much taller then her, the water coming well up to her chest. While it was cool against her skin, she was not like the tiger who enjoyed to swim. ”Showing me the scenic route I take it?” She makes a face at him while allowing the mischievousness to once more reach her eyes. The flicker of flames that curl along his spine briefly not missed from her sharp gaze. He seemed to be flame incarnate. ”Are all the ladies so lucky to get such treatment?” She was game to follow as long as the reward was worth it in the end.
09-09-2017, 05:17 PM (This post was last modified: 09-09-2017, 05:42 PM by Reagan.)
Reagan
I want you to know that I'm all yours; you and me, we're the same force.
She had waited. And waited.
And in the end, she found that she was tired of waiting. For something. For anything.
And so, together with a very special package trailing behind her, she says goodbye to the forest—it was not hers to protect any longer, as there was no longer a forest to protect—and makes her way east across the mainland. Her heart longs for the days when things were simple… before they had gone so, so wrong. The man she had loved was someone she no longer recognized, and the wall that surrounded her former home—her former kingdom—had the stench of a very familiar magician… and she intended to get her and her child as far from this place as possible. Living in the shadow of such a monstrosity was untenable to her, and the stench of Deimos’ magic was wreaking havoc with the area around it… corrupting all in its wake. One would have had to have been blind, deaf, and mute not to hear the way the wolves of lava and water howled whenever they made their next killing. Oh, how her heart ached with it.
Her beloved Forest, was no more.
And thus, she turns in the direction of the Volcano. He had to know. She finally had to tell him her secret…
Reagan has made her way to Tephra, to the protection she could find at the base of its volcano, to the protection of the one who guarded it.
Crossing the border, the scorching smell of sulfur burned at her nostrils. The trees fell away, replaced with sand and salt and magma that wound its way thither and yon across the landscape. Her green eyes make out two figures wading in a pool not too far off… and with a little study, her heart leaps into her chest at the familiar stature that the obsidian colored stallion cut across the ragged peaks. She closes her eyes, and takes a drag of his heady scent on the wind… intermingled with that of another. One that is familiar, and yet one that is very different. Female.
Reagan steps carefully across the rocky terrain, and, standing upon the bluff looking down—and unfamiliar sensation, as one who is quite short—she snorts almost unnecessarily…as if she is motioning to something silently.. Stay. her mind says. I will come for you very shortly. .
Green eyes take in Offspring and the other—a woman named Tantalize. Just the mere sight of him is enough to set her on edge. Someone who means so much when she knows so little about about him. "Offspring." His name on her lips feels like an imported whiskey. Foreign, and yet so good. She doesn't want to allow herself to feel the way he made her feel once upon a time ago. Ignoring her feelings and putting them aside, Her mind turns to the reason that has brought her here. Her creeping tendrils reach out toward his mind. Taiga has been wiped off the face of the map, and the Forest is no longer safe. Jinju has gone missing... along with her entire family. She comes on business, but she would be lying if it didn't do her heart good to see him again.
Her eyes settle silently on Tantalize… not unkindly. Her smell was that akin to someone she had one known and loved. A small smile plays on her lips, and she dips her head in greeting. “Hello Tantalize. I knew your father well.” Such a familiar scent. She tried to imagine what Cross would have looked like with wings. The image was rather a humorous sight to her own mind. "I knew him before he ruled the Tundra. In another life, it seems now. Such a long time ago." Another small smile. "My name is Reagan."
Turning her gaze back to Offspring, she waits a minute, and then Begins to turn back toward the border. "I do not mean to intrude. When you have a moment, seek me out. I have someone you are going to want to meet." She gives one last meaningful look to Liz, she smiles, and begins to turn away.
