"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
There was a quiet moment in Grimdark’s head when he realized that the entire world was content to roll on without him—as if he never existed. He knew his mother had—wherever she had gone—loved him once, and perhaps his sister too. But he had left, and then, just like the rest of them, they had faded. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. He was content to live his life, as blissfully ignorant as they came and go as shades, dancing through his mind. Every so often, he would venture out in search of food—for one cannot live on sand alone. Keeping to the shadows, ever vigilant of his surroundings. Ever since that winter night… that woman. He had stepped into a place out of his character. As in, any character at all. He did not do well in social situations. And as was so poignantly pointed out to him—he was no good at it. His silver eyes were turbulent—rocking like the sea after a storm. The sand clung to his hide like a distracted lover, and his hair wrapped around his neck like a mistress. He smelled like sand and sea and salt, and as he made his way down the coast, he was made silently aware of how sexy the ocean was when it was angry. He had never been to this part of Beqanna before. But he found that when he made the shoreline after his swim, he became entranced, and just kept walking. His hunger forgotten, Grimdark’s mind takes him away, unaware of his surroundings. The floundering former prince-turned-pirate knows the sea… but he does not know this land. He clicks his tongue behind his teeth; blinking away some of the grains of sand as it trails behind him like a shadow. What bounty waits for him here among the mystifying sand dunes beyond the cliffs?
GRIMDARK
deimos x ea, dragon vision, twilight manipulation, twin to allure
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
Spring had come to Nerine and decided to rest her weary head for a bit. The jagged edges of rocky cliffs were dazzled with small purple and yellow flowers. The seabirds called to their mates and young amidst the crevasses. Isobell wondered if there would be any foals in Nerine this year as she swept her eyes across the territory with a small but promising smile.
The silver eyed woman moved her body easily over the sea carved lands and opted for a look over the black sands to the sea. The kelpie queen thought that perhaps a swim could do her some good, to wash away the worry and the crown for only a moment or two at least. The mare makes her way over the familiar grounds, the dark sand, into the sea-glass waters. She sighs softly as the water glides over the moonstone and obsidian scales. It feels like the warm embrace of a lover until she slips below the waves.
When she surfaces, a man stands on the shore, his head turning about as he drinks in the beauty of the sea and sand. "Hello." The greeting in offered as she moves towards the shore, her body glistening under the watchful eye of a full sun. The water droplets fall like diamonds from the scales of her body, her hair stuck to the curve of her neck as she offers a small, polite smile to the stranger. "New to Nerine?" The question is asked as her mercury colored eyes rove his form,
nostrils expanding as she catches his heavily masculine scent.
The sun was weak as lit up the world around him. It moved and played on the water as it flowed with the reflection of the ripples. He found himself staring out into the ocean, his breath stolen away by the sheer beauty of it. Until a bright light caught him unawares…
The only thing that happened next would remain as a stain on Grimdark’s memory for the rest of his life. The mythology of what he found himself looking at next was the way the light played off the back of the scales of a beautiful creature that moved and played with the waves as if she were one of them. The color of moon and sun, she mesmerized him instantly. His thick hair hung matted and full of sand, obscuring his vision, and the way his mouth shamelessly hung open. The light played off her body and cast a shadow across the water. The water droplets slid off her—slick, as if she were dipped in oil. A thing of the sea—and he, a man of the sea, found a walking visage of his mistress made flesh.
She speaks to him then—and Grim, in his social stupidity, he has not seen her coming—and he stumbles backwards. Hello. Are you new to Nerine?
Nerine. Nerine.
What the fuck is a Nerine?
He coughs, shifting his weight in the weakened sand, feeling his reserve pulling away at his suave exterior.
“A what? A who?”
And there went the suave. He is just a dirty little boy, staring at a pretty little girl.
GRIMDARK
deimos x ea, dragon vision, twilight manipulation, twin to allure
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
The dark man seems to be tripping over his own tongue as Isobell pulls herself reluctantly from the water's caress. She grips the dark soil easily, her skin slick, as she moves to close the space between the strange face and herself. It was wise to meet the faces of potential immigrants. The brown male with the pale hair was a face she had yet to meet in her short time of becoming queen.
The smile blooms across her lips, a bit crooked, but present as he stumbles over his words. A small laugh echos with her own surprise that he did not seem to understand what she was asking. "Nerine-," she tilts her head with a quirked brow before jutting her dark chin on either direction of his body, "this is Nerine..." Isobell trails off with a curious glint in her silver eyes. Had he never heard of the seaside kingdom? Perhaps he was a pilgrim born outside of Beqanna. Isobell attempts to toss her hair off her neck but fails and only sends a small spray of salt water. "Well allow me to be the first to welcome you..." She leaves the greeting open as she waits for him to fill in the space with his name.
"I'm Isobell." The painted mare offers with a little nod to punctuate her given name. Hopefully the strange man would follow along and do the same. Her dark lips return together and press into a small, reserved smile once again with ears forward and waiting for his voice.
Grim looked around, his tangled mess of hair moving stuntedly as he coughed. “If you say so.” His voice was gravelly as he spoke, and he coughed again. His throat was sore from lack of usage, and he looked outward towards the waves, finding that he much preferred the woman in the waves than this visage before him. The mistress was wet, slick, and beautiful, but she was not the ocean.
His first love would always be the ocean.
The black and white light that emanated off of her still entranced him, however, and he found his mind quieted enough to actually formulate thoughts. Grimdark closed his eyes and shook his head, squaring her up as he took a step towards her. “They call me Grimdark.” he says, silently aware that he is saying his name out loud for the first time in his entire life. “Whether or not that is my real name, I have never heard. But it suits me now.”
His voice smooths out quickly as he speaks, a thick, vibrant honey coating his tongue as he steps closer to Isobelle, taking her scent and nearly going rigid at the scent of sex and salt that wafts off her body, as he waits to see if he will get to spy her sliding through the waves with all the effortlessness of the siren that he now feels keeps him rooted to his spot. And yet, this area… this Nerine…
“It certainly is a pretty day.”
That’s Grimdark for you. Says exactly what’s on his mind.
GRIMDARK
deimos x ea, dragon vision, twilight manipulation, twin to allure
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
"I do say so." The mare scoffs a little at the dark man on her equally dark shores. The slightest edge of her dark lips quirk in a smirk as she enhances the fact that she is teasing the stallion despite knowing no more than that he is a complete stranger who has washed ashore like so many. Isobell has nearly disengaged from the ocean all together except for her hooves being licked by the seafoam. The painted woman attempts to flick her tail but only amplifies the knotty mess against her hind end, dripping steadily from her belly and tracing between the scales.
"Do they?" She muses curiously as she looks to his left and to his right, wondering if there were unforeseen guests among them but she sees none and moves on with her investigation of the tangled beast. "Grimdark, nice enough." Isobell words his name with her slick tongue and silver eyes. It was not a terrible title by any means but the shaggy haired stallion seemed also reluctant to have disclosed it. "I'm Isobell." The moonlight and moondark mare offers. "Why does it fit you so well Grim?" Long sooty lashes fall over the mercury filled eyes as steps at long last from the salty tongue of the ocean. Her eyes open bright and curious of him remark, wondering what lay just beyond the mask of his crushingly somber features.
Isobell chooses to disregard his remark about the day. Of course it is beautiful, she had looked to the sky and noticed that when she woke and decided to go for a swim. But now, right now, a paltry remark about the clear blue sky was meaningless as she waited for her question to be answer, her unbroken attention willing it from him.
Grim heard her. He had chosen to ignore her. And yet, she came right back to the main question. She wants to know more about him. She's the only one who ever did. He cocked a brow at her, and for the first time, he felt himself smiling, his handsome features relaxing as he felt himself absorbing into the atmosphere—taking in the sights and smells and the ambience of Nerine... So like Ischia, and yet... so vastly different. Larger. More to explore. "You know, I'm not entirely sure." He laughs airly, a deep rumble that settles in the base of his throat.
Looking at her, his mane pulls away from his face and reveals his copper colored face. it contrasts against his silver eyes and similarly colored body. He wonders how such a creature came to be. She did not seem to be the siren type. She was so strong, so... warrioresque. How then does a broad beauty become the slinky ocean siren that he had scene—the one who mesmorized him and kept him to his place. Kept him curious enough to stay—which is a rare feat in and of itself.
"Would you like to show me your home?"
GRIMDARK
deimos x ea, dragon vision, twilight manipulation, twin to allure
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
Isobell can not help but to turn her head slightly towards the curious man. He was an strange thing, his words flitting like a hummingbird any yet she does not move on from where he stands. Instead she prefers to entertain his question with a bit of a nod. Perhaps she was lonely and in need of some companionship.
Perhaps.
Isobell finds the way the silver contrasts the copper of his skin to be rather charming. SHe has not seen any creature with his coloration. What family did he com from and how did he find himself in Nerine? Well there would be time for all of those answers but for now she would indulge her quest with a quiet tour. "As I mentioned, welcome to Nerine." Isobell does a broad dramatic bow, sweeping one foreleg behind the other as her mane falls in her face. She laughs when she rises and takes his side. "Nerine has been in my family since my mother took rule before my birth." Her scaled legs reflect the wash of the ocean as she moves to guide him along well made paths, tracing the shore side but cutting through the long sea grasses.
"It has not been mine for very long but I do hope to keep Nerine's greatness." Isobell speaks very passively about her home and queenship. Silver eyes do not look to meet the matching of her companion's but instead motion over the flatter parts of the land from the small peak they stand on. "There are many residents in Nerine, though our numbers have dwindled, we are proud people and I am always looking to invite new faces to stay." She shifts her eyes to his as an almost sky smile touches her lips, a laugh following to break the quiet tension of her awkward words. "Now then-", she moves on, looking first east then west, "Nerine is a peninsula so we a re protected from many types of creatures."
She continues to walk, the sea birds cawing loudly and the salt deer looking up occasionally from their grazing to watch the pair of horses go by. Isobell looks to Grim with a coy eye. "What do you think Grim? Would you care to stay a bit? Be my guest for a day or two?" She would offer this to any equine but the man seemed to possess something of intrigue though she is not certain what it is yet. He would be free to depart if he should feel the need but Isobell looked forward to a potential new face among the land of black sands and salt water.
The image of the painted shadow lady - his siren - wet as she played in the waves played in his mind like bad recording as they were walking. She was talking, and he was hearing her - but the image of the sun reflecting off her scales was a hypnotising act that he could not seem to get out of his mind. The black sands were refreshing - so different than he was used to. It seemed to be, just here, that they were the norm on these beaches, and Grimdark looked down at his feet as he walked. He was at peace here in the coast - as if something was drawing him here. It was a visceral action that only could be described as primal.
Animalistic.
Grimdark has never felt such a feeling in all his years.
And yet, this close to the sand and the sea, the smell of the salt in the air and the fishy afterglow that remained when the tide went out - it was home to him. Not Nerine, necessarily, but he was happy in places like this. He loved the water, and had always felt that there was more to him than what he had been born to. He wished he knew more - he always felt that there was something he was missing.
Something that simply did not make sense.
But his company was certainly improving, because as his copper and steel body made headway with Isobell, walking down the coast in companionable silence, she turns to him and asks if he would not mind staying a while.
Grim turns to her, his face expressionless, but his heart is beating. Leave the coast? Really? Is that even a good idea? Still.."It would be my pleasure, Isobell. He was not born to know deference, and so he does not use titles. She is simply Isobell. He does not know her mother, nor does he care to. His lack of decorum is a blatant disregard for all that is Beqanna, though he does not know this, and barely knew what his mother was at the time of his birth. That he, Grimdark, is perhaps more like Isobell than he knows.
Or would ever care to be, if he ever found out.
GRIMDARK
deimos x ea, dragon vision, twilight manipulation, twin to allure
i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
Had she been gifted with the ability to read minds, Isobell would have blushed three shades of red. The mare has known desire, lust, a carnal desire for contact. She had been claimed by the kelpie king as his own despite the years of their foalhood when they were innocents among the wolves. Isobell had never known to be purely an object of beauty in another eyes.
As she walked and talked, the mare pointing out the seabirds and riptides, she occasionally looked to her companion with a hopeful eyes. One hip rolls into the other as she walks steadily with the occasional bump to his own skin. "So sorry." Isobell offers the apology as the look of surprise flits over her feminine features at the contact of a man who is foreign to her. The scales slid smoothly against the taunt flesh of his masculine frame despite half expecting to hear the little -click click- of the melding of scales. This man with his pale hair and creamy skin is not the kelpie king. He is not Ivar.
A small smile blossoms slowly to her lips when the pause of her words expand a too nearly an uncomfortable size. Silver eyes move and meet his darker ones as her breath catches temporarily in her throat. She is not sure what to say next and finds that her legs have stopped, guided by their own cognition. The seabirds call in the distance for their mates as the sound of the ocean echoes int eh caves below the cliffs in which they stood.
Her heart thrums in her small chest, had the hike been that enduring? She is afraid to answer her own question. "It would be my pleasure, Isobell." Her name on his tongue is exotic. Despite the salt that dried on his skin, she can catch the faintest wisps of cinnamon and saffron. It had been some time since she had seen Ivar (nearly 6 months since he changed her) and to be alone in the presence of a man, -this man-, made her mouth suddenly forget it's purpose and her jaw to clutch tight.
She works a smile across her lips in an attempt to coax her lips to regain movement as she watches her own reflection in the steel of the stallion's own eyes. She feels small under his gaze but she is not frightened. An autumn chill pulls her muscles tight when a small shiver nearly collapses her against him. It was strange to feel the cold now despite her scales. "You've made me so happy, Grimdark. Grim?" The shortened name asked with a curling of her lips and a tilt of her head. If he should prefer the full title then she would gladly oblige but for now she is grateful to regain some control over her movements once again.
