"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
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
Give up the wings? Fine. Easy. No, really. She had taken them on because no one else stood out. If giving them up meant gaining her immortality back, she would have carved them from her shoulder blades right then and there. Lagertha would gladly bleed, if it meant she would no longer feel her age (which was not old, exactly, but it also wasn’t young.. and time just kept on ticking).
With her question finally answered, Lagertha returns to the Jungle, eager to find someone to pass the wings off to. It may be slightly irresponsible, but no one is a fucking saint all the time. She holds the dark gray and white wings close to her body, keeping her head low to avoid getting her horns stuck on something (that was really the only downfall - moving through the thick greenery with such large additions). A plan begins to form, but for once she is ultimately unsure of how to proceed. She asked for someone to prove themselves, and yet none have (there hasn’t been much time - but still). So without seeming like she’s going back on her word (which would never do), she has to find an alternative way to pass them on.
Perhaps if someone asked… if someone were to want to try and prove themselves, that might work... Lagertha muses over the idea as she heads towards the main gathering area, combining it with a mental checklist that seems to be growing ever longer.
There was this pesky thing about returning that bothered her to no end and that was her foggy memories. Large moments in the Amazons stood out but the times before she had been a ruler were harder to drudge up. She had asked Scorch to put her in both castes hoping she would find her strengths and weaknesses, however not much had been happening for her to put anything to the test. Perhaps this was how it had been in the beginning, there’s a fleeting thought of wanting to be well rounded in both areas when she had been green to the jungle, where she tested the waters at what she was good at. She could talk to others and hold an intelligent conversation. She had also been hand picked for the Alliance and knew that fighting was in her blood. It was something that she had been born to do, her father had been the general of multiple kingdoms and the spirit of a warrior had pumped through her blood till the jungle had swallowed her up. Only spitting her out now. Perhaps her skills were rusty.
The problem really was her lack of purpose. Since slinking back into the dark green depths, she had been utterly lost. If she had known that Carnage had thought her a dried up has been, she probably would have found a cliff to jump off of. It was terrible, this shell of a horse she had turned into. All she needed was a purpose, a reason to live again, a reason to strive. Something that could put the claws back in the jaguar.
Maybe it’s chance, luck, or fate that brings her into the direction of Lagertha and it’s an encounter she doesn’t mind as she had wanted to find the other on a one on one basis. The Amazonian warrior was unreadable to her although she had been able to sense the tension between her and Scorch on that first day of her return. Not knowing her really at all.. She was still rather entitled to like her. The younger mare reminded her of old allies, the friends that had helped her rebuild this place back when it had been dragged though the mud. So she offers the other her ghost of a smile, golden eyes searching her face as she tries to gain a sense of the other. ”Lagertha.” A slight dip of her muzzle in gesture of a greeting. ”You look to be on the war path.” For the others stride is filled purpose and there is an aura of determination about her. ”Something on your mind?”
The small gathering was rather impressive to the casual bystander. Lagertha, with her perpetual purpose and glowing horns, holding wings close to her like a baby. Tantalize - who Sunday met once in passing, who nags on her like a puzzle needing to be solved - questioning her. And Sunday, with her pleasant smile and mild mannerisms, entering their little conversation well before it truly begins. She's unaware of the true purpose behind either mare's outing, though if she wanted to she could pry.
It doesn't take much prying to analyze the colors that bathe both mares. Lagertha and her sense of purpose is a divine shade of purple. Ambition. Nobility. And Tantalize? Gold. Traditional. There's something so familiar about the mare she's never met that she's almost a part of the Amazons herself. Sunday is always on the edge of asking the mare how long she's been a part of the Amazons. Forever the diplomat, Sunday keeps her mouth shut on that matter.
Instead, she offers a friendly greeting before approaching the two.
"Hello Lagertha," she says pleasantly. "Tantalize, correct? Forgive me if I've forgotten," another pleasant tone, another smile.
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
There’s something about Tantalize that strikes a chord in the General. Whether it is because like calls to like, or because the quiet, bay mare seems to be everywhere now, she doesn’t know. But she does appreciate it, and the gray mare is eager to see if she could add her to her very small circle of trustworthy individuals. At the moment, it was comprised solely of Rhy… and when Vyx was around, the fox-girl held a place there too. Unfortunately, when the Jungle seems to bleed sisters at opportune moments, two or three are hardly enough to bring about change.
One becomes two when Lagertha breaks into the clearing. She is so in her own mind that she doesn’t notice Tantalize even coming towards her - and that is rare. She pulls up quickly, snorting softly. But when she sees who it is, Lagertha huffs out a short ‘ha!’ and grins wryly. “Yes and no…” She pauses and looks her sister over, an idea coming to her. She resettles her weight and looks back at her gray and white wings. Stupid things. Just not for her, really.
Before she can ask, Sunday arrives, and the General finds herself a bit surprised. The Bloodrider has been markedly absent lately, and for her to come to Lagertha for companionship? It wasn’t what she was used to. Nevertheless, she nods and smiles and then slyly asks, “I don’t suppose either of you want a pretty new pair of wings? Hardly been used. Free, too, for the negligible price of joining the Air Force.”
It’s not every day that someone offers you a pair of feathery wings. ”Wings?” She asks the General, slightly confused even as Lagertha looks back at the pair on her back. ”Your wings?” She asks again, just to clarify. A brow furrows, a scrutinizing look on her face as she takes in the sister’s offer. When she had been offered the position of Khaleesi, a position that all the sisters had suggested and pushed for and not one she had ever sought out… She took it gladly, not realizing quite the responsibility it was. Did she enjoy it? Absolutely but it paid it’s price. It’s a wiser jaguar that prowls the jungle now.
The sound of the Air Force is inviting but she’s learned her lesson enough to ask questions first before so blindly accepting something that looks so wonderful on the outside. ”What exactly does the Air Force entail?” She asks quietly, faint smile on velvet lips. ”I’m definitely interested, don’t get me wrong, but you might have to show me how to fly first.” A glance at the other mare who had joined them, wondering what Sunday thought of all this and if she might seize the opportunity for herself. Here was a purpose that Liz had been seeking and the interest is flickering in her golden eyes but she wants to know everything first. Not wanting to fail in a role or responsibility like she had done before.
Absent indeed.
Sunday felt the pull of the jungle as she sank into oblivion, so distanced from her sisters. She could feel them moving in her soul, but as though she were underwater. Something else pulled her to the very recesses of the earth. She sunk deep into the jungle and into its obscure outlands. Here she found the strength of her power, the pull of nature.
It was no excuse - there is never a good excuse to abandon your duty. Sunday did not apologize - that was silly. The Jungle didn't care for your words, it cared for your actions. She knew this deep in her soul and set her sights of remedying the situation with action.
It doesn't surprise her to see the colors on Lagertha change to confusion at the sight of the magickal mare. They knew very little of each other, really. Lagertha of war, Sunday of such strict diplomacy. Sunday did not dislike a single soul (in Beqanna - that's a true caveat), so it's not to say that was an issue.
"Wings? Oh dear no, the army has never been my strong suit. I'm afraid I would cause much more damage than be of any help." She smiles good naturedly and nods to Tantalize. "By all means, take them. They would be such a compliment to you." She does not ask Lagertha why she's given them up - these are personal matters and Sunday is too kind to pry.
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
Yes, it’s odd. Lagertha knows this, but if she doesn’t treat it an everyday request, will Liz take it seriously? “Yes,” she says simply, as if it were only natural. “These wings. Though I assume they would manifest in whatever way you would prefer.” She looks back to hers again, unfurling them slowly. No need to tell her that it was a doubly self serving thing she is doing right now - well, certainly not all of it. “I cannot lead both the Army and the Air Force…” What had Beqanna said? You cannot be an army of one, or something to that effect. So here she is, trying to foist responsibility on someone else, and it seems almost unnatural.
“In essence, an aerial force should we ever go to war. It needs its own Commander, who can make her own judgements based on what she observes from on high. You would be working with just Lyris at the moment, though once she perfects her weather manipulation, which can apparently include flight, she will pass her wings on to someone else.” And really, that was as much of a plan as either she or Lyris had. Lagertha just needs someone to step up. “They’re yours, if you want them.”
It is so fucking close, she can almost taste the relief of youth flooding back into her body.
In an effort to keep Sunday in the conversation, Lagertha turns to her and tries to joke. I don’t think I’ve even seen you swat a fly, Sunday. How have you been, by the way…?” Small talk has never been her forte, but she will make every effort. It’s also an honest question, as Lagertha hasn’t seen her lately.
Sunday dismisses the offer, she has no desire for the art of war. Instead she encourages Liz to take the wings. Lagertha explains the situation, of needing someone to help lead the Air Force beside her. Of what the responsibilities would entail. It seems there is one another, Lyris, who she would be working with. The one she assumes who would help her learn to fly… If she took the wings that is. Sunday and Lagertha are making small talk, discussing other things while she weighs this huge choice she’s about to make. Here was an opportunity to be something again. Could she do it? In the state she was in, not quite as whole as she should be, could she lead an Air Force? She didn’t even know how to fly. “You’ll learn.” A voice inside her prods, encouraging her. “This is what you wanted, to have a purpose again.”
Yes… It had been what she wanted. She could learn. Lyris could teach her or she could seek out someone else that could show her how. And she could fight, she had held her own in the Alliance. Change was coming, they all knew it. Did it mean war was coming? Perhaps. She would have to learn as quickly and efficiently as she could. Mostly the decision comes down to if she’s even capable of such a thing. Carnage thought her washed up, just another disgraced ex ruler. So did Weed apparently. So did many others, she figures. But she wasn’t. She had barely aged since her disappearance, only the confusion and the trauma of her past made her look as weathered as she does now. She still had much to give, still had worth. And the mistakes she made as a ruler did not define her, she had many successes during her reign. This could bring her back to the way things use to be… almost. ”Ok.” The words escape her lips before she even realizes it. Golden gaze raising slowly as she meets Lagertha’s. ”I’ll do it.”
