"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
Oh, fuck it he thought as he flew from the Chamber. The next year was likely to be an unpleasant one, but he would serve his time. There were things he could do though, ways to make the most of the stay. He had said his farewells, promised to make visits to the meadow, and he was on his way. He was a sensible man, and there was no sense in making a big fuss over sleeping in the Jungle at night. All was not lost, in fact, he just might find himself privy to useful information. While he was at it, he could probably manage to make himself a proper pain in the ass to the girl. Killdare smiled at this, turning into a barrel roll as his flight neared the Jungle. He could smell it already, copious amounts of animal and plant life. The heady bouquet was for now, a pile of stink, each fragrance trying to overpower the other. It would take some getting used to, and he desired no such thing.
He found a decent spot to land, the foreign greens providing an unusually soft one. He was just inside the borders, they wanted him here, well, he was here then. The bay had a bit of a look around, his glassy eyes adjusting to the wash of sunlight. It was all grossly green in his opinion, too much of one thing. That was honestly of little consequence compared to the humidity, he felt sticky, as if he had rolled in sap. His own moisture clinging to him and refusing to let go. Well, where was the little sunflower? He was sure to be smelling pretty for her.
09-12-2015, 09:24 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2015, 09:26 PM by Joscelin.)
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
He arrives and she is waiting for him. He had kept to his bargain. For that she is grateful. She wouldn’t have relished having to hunt him down. As he lands, she steps from the darkness of the jungle. Her arrival is not particularly subtle. The cracks scoring her skin are flickering, a slow, leisurely trickle of light along those dark fissures. As she steps out of the line of trees, a smile curves her lips. It is not a happy smile, but rather one of satisfaction, of knowing. He is here at her behest, after all.
She is sore today, her bruised shoulder aching fiercely. Her scraped cannons are healing and appear unlikely to scar. Even if they did, they would not be noticeable amongst the hundreds of scars already littering her body. She doesn’t doubt he is as sore (or more so than) she is. The smirk deepens then, her delight at having been the impetus for his arrival (capture) evident.
She has long since grown used to the heat and humidity of the jungle. It no longer bothers her. But his discomfort is clear, his bay coat dampening with sweat almost before he lands. She tips her head slightly, golden eyes regarding him closely. The smile fades slowly, replaced by an expression more typical of her, passive interest.
Welcome to the jungle, Killdare. I would like to say enjoy your stay, but I’m not entirely certain it will be pleasant.
She supposes the agreeability of his stay depends more on him and how well the sisters like the Chamber at the moment.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
OOC: so I decided to delete the other one and just respond to this one
She does not disappoint him, finding her way over, he had not been made to wait long. He now had a more opportune moment to study her, eyeing the creases of light that soiled her pelt. Her form looked broken, cracked where the light spilled, and he wondered how that might have occurred. Perhaps the girl had been born that way, stranger things happened here.
He did not appear to favor his wounds, powering through the ache they caused him. Killdare had been subjected to all manner of abuse growing up. If he could carry on through that, then he could do the same now. Besides that, he refused to show any sign of weakness, he knew all too well what that could bring about. Mostly unpleasant things. They would heal soon enough, and he had time. Much more time than he was used to, to himself anyways. With no patrols to see to, unable to do or oversee any training, what would he do? Free time was a foreign idea to the bay, he often kept himself busy, or at least moving.
”Smells quite repugnant.” He states rather flatly focusing on her face as he speaks, looking her in the eye. He has always made direct eye contact when speaking or with anyone else whom spoke, giving them his full attention. His wings spread, lifted up and away from his body, creating his own personal air conditioning. It was a welcome feeling, making the heat more tolerable. ”Oh, I am sure we will find ways to enjoy ourselves, don’t worry little sunflower.” Perhaps it would be funny, or considered playful nature coming from anyone else. That was lost on him, his chiseled jaw remained serious and stone like. WE he said, because he planned to remain thoroughly lodged up her ass as much as possible. ”An entire year of my company, you are in for a treat if I do say so. Warship is a good man but rather grouchy, and Gryffen…Well, I’m not sure you’d enjoy his idea of company at all.” Oh yes, a splendid year for all.
KILLDARE
Dragon-Winged Tracker Colonel of the Chamber
OOC: haha I was writing a reply for that one last night and then it had disappeared.
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
My, my, the youth are ambitious, aren’t they? It must be all that energy, that light she is hiding beneath her cracked skin. It is a pleasure, actually, to see her Joscelin take initiative, and even better to see her succeed. The Chamber is probably rather irritated with them right now, Lagertha thinks with a wicked little half-grin. Her own efforts may have been unfruitful, but with pokes in all the right places, they would eventually get there.
The horned queen shows up after a little while, because after all, they must be proper hosts. There is a curious glint in her steely-eyed gaze, as she comes upon the two of them. Lagertha manages to catch the Chamberling’s retorts, and smoothly interjects, “That must be yourself you’re smelling. If it’s too warm for you, try the water. Careful, the crocs are hungry this time of year.” Ahh, if only her tattoos would return. The faceguard and breastplate would be quite the addition to the tall, sharp pieces of bone that arc high above her head. Scary, even. Though not to a Chamberling, of course. They’re the biggest baddies in all of Beqanna, aren’t they?
She turns her attention to Joscelin then, nodding in appreciation, “Well done, Joscelin. Who is your captive?” She doesn’t introduce herself yet, waiting to see what the stallion may do or say if he doesn’t know who he’s talking to.
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
The man has quite the wit, she’ll give him that. Fortunately she’s well equipped to handle cheek. What he doesn’t know about her is that she had been an audacious and outspoken child. Just because she is no longer quite so flamboyant does not mean she has lost her edge.
But it is at that moment that the Jungle’s new Khaleesi decides to make an appearance, responding to his first statement with a sharp-tongued quip of her own. Though she does not laugh, her amusement is clear in her keen golden gaze. Leaning in, she whispers (in an overly exaggerated confidential tone, one Lagertha would still easily be able to hear) to Killdare a quick response to the Khaleesi’s words.
Perhaps if you didn’t fan your wings so, she might not notice it as much.
As she straightens, her features are carefully neutral. Flicking an ear, she continues, her next words coming almost as an afterthought.
By the way, you’re mispronouncing my name. It’s Joscelin.
She says her name slowly, enunciating each syllable clearly. Though she finds the nickname amusing (she is perhaps the farthest thing from a sunflower she could imagine, so where he had come up with it, she cannot even fathom), she cannot resist offering a second dig. Lagertha speaks directly to her then, drawing her attention from the bay stallion. At the woman’s words however, her gaze turns back to Killdare. The barest hint of a smile tugs at her lips as she responds.
This is Killdare, the Chamber’s very austere and earnest Colonel.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
His scaled wings remain lifted, allowing for his body to cool itself. A light breeze passes over his now bare back, and his temperature begins to slowly drop. At least, to a more tolerable degree.The things were damn useful sometimes, even if he hadn’t had them for very long. He was learning, and more importantly he was remembering.
He smirks, then grunts as the girls whispers find his ears. A passing piece of suggestion in regards to the now approached second. The female to find them is a deep, dark, stormcloud grey. Lovely in her own right he supposed, but far too much toned muscle for his taste. Not that he is looking, but a man can admire a woman, can he not? Too add to her roughness is a pair of large horns protruding from her head, and he can only guess this is the Jungle’s army leader.
With this assessment he dips his head briefly, acknowledging her rank and position, showing her nothing but respect in that aspect. If he knew one thing, it was respect for elders, or for rank. Even by women. Especially by women, because in this land, women were always surprising him. Before she fully makes her way to their spot, the first female is correcting him on how to say her name. He smiles, turning his earthy head towards her, to look her in the eye. ”Right of course, Joscelin, but I think sunflower is a bit more appropriate.” It was for his own amusement really, having tugged the similarity of the flowers name and associating it with the light that burst from her body.
He finds the approacher once again before he speaks, this time louder for all to hear. ”I thank you for the offer, but I’m wise to decline I think.”Killdare had never seen a crocodile before, but assumed it was a carnivorous creature from the end of her quip. ”Besides, all the better for you to remember me by.” Of course he associated everything with smell, and as a result stored the faces of a scent when one applied. He thought everyone should and hated that more folks did not. Maybe if he stunk it up enough, they would be reluctant to invite him back, and he could spend his time more productively. It made sense to him at least.
He smirks at the sound of his name, and gives a little bow, ”The one and only, and how shall I address you? General? Commander?” He was very serious to question the title, and his face only told of his actual desire to know. He would not be caught slacking on proper procedure, even as mundane as it might seem. The young lady had him pegged already, a place for everything, everything in its place.
I am fascinated by my new mother, and I am never very far from her. She isn't overbearing, like maman was, but I am drawn to her side as if I am a magnet. Part of this is I am still very young and being on my own isn't my favorite thing. And part of it is, I am afraid Lagertha will disappear like my first maman did. Every day that passes my old life fades and it is a quiet, secret worry of mine that this new world I have discovered will someday do the same. And oh, what a world this is. Inhabited by the Sisters who seem fierce and friendly all in one. I have never felt safer, nor more curious.
I have been sleeping curled up under the large umbrella leaves that are scattered around the floor of the jungle. They offer shade, although they do little to block the humidity. Coming from a cold and misty mountain to the blazing sweating heat of the Jungle has been one of my biggest adjustments. I've found I like the heat, the force of it pressing against my skin and reminding me that I am alive.
I wake with a startle, and immediately look for my mother. She is always busy, although I don't know if I could tell anyone exactly what she does, but she is rarely very far from me. The other mares call her Khaleesi. It makes me feel a sense of pride to know she is so important in this place I am growing to love.
“Mother?” I call as I scramble to my feet. Relief floods my features as I notice her gray form nearby, flanked by a mare I know and like, Joscelin, and a stallion I have never seen before. I trot over vines and branches, whickering at a pair of brightly colored birds as I move to Lagertha's side.I offer Joscelin a shy smile. The last of the stallion's query reaches my ears and I give him a puzzled look. Doesn't everyone know who my mother is?
“This is my mama and she's in charge of all the Sisters. She's a Khaleesi.” I nudge her side insistently, in an accidental stage whisper. “Whose this? Is he going to live here with us?”
I eye the newcomer with interest and a little warily. If he lives here, what will he be called?
Who doesn’t like it when captives play along? In spite of herself, Lagertha chuckles and grins a little. “Good choice, Killdare. They have a nasty set of teeth.” Aside from jaguars, they were the ultimate predator in the Jungle. Unless you count the innocent-looking hippo, which was incidentally more dangerous than it looked. Basically, it was better to stay on the river banks than to wade into it or try and cross it. Could it be crossed? The river was wide, and when it flooded, it roared to life with a vengeance.
A girlish voice cuts through the air, calling out Mother! and it takes her a moment before she turns to look at the smoky little girl scampering up to them. Lagertha is getting used to her constant shadow - she is very different than Dalten was; more lively and extroverted and interested in everything. Perhaps it is the psychological difference of being a boy in a woman’s world, than being a girl in a place where women were in charge. It could not have been easy for him, she knows this. He was a political child, and one that from birth was expected to rise to her own expectations. Anguisette has none of this; she is not of Lagerth’s blood (though she is slowly creeping into her heart), and was not created out of necessity. Lagertha still has much to prove, but hopefully she will no longer have to use her womb to accomplish things.
Lagertha reaches out to brush her nose against Sette’s neck, mischief in her eyes as she turns back to the Chamberling. “General, yes. But also Queen.” Surprise! After a long glance back down to her new daughter, she looks back at the Colonel and wonders if he has any clue about the truth of the child before them. “And this is my daughter, Sette.” (She does not give her whole name, just in case. “Sette, this is Killdare, from the Chamber. He is visiting for a year because Joscelin defeated him in a challenge. If Joscelin had lost, she would have had to visit the Chamber, instead.”
She’s well prepared in case Killdare says something to insinuate that Sette is not her daughter. Two options, though she’s not sure which one she will choose. Or perhaps the stallion will be ignorant of the matter, and they won’t have to talk about that.
There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye.
The bay stallion has a quick and pithy reply to everything. Joscelin cannot help but be amused, though little of her amusement shows upon her features. The light dancing capriciously along the cracks in her skin quickens, darting in a madcap, random fashion across her bright bay coat. It is her one tell in an otherwise impassive face. Her light responds quite readily to her emotions when she is not monitoring it closely. Fortunately it is not necessarily easy to tell precisely what emotion she is feeling based on the speed of the flickering in her skin.
A small filly approaches then, distracting the group from their wordplay. Joscelin does smile then, a true smile. Her metallic gaze warms a degree as she extends her neck and nudges the dark filly in greeting.
Hey kiddo. Long time no see.
Her words are easy, relaxed. Far more so than they have been since first greeting Killdare. She hadn’t expected to, but she has found that she rather likes children. Not that she’s in any rush to have any. That would require certain activities that she isn’t particularly keen on. More accurately, she finds the entire idea rather revolting. Though if she ever did want kids one day, she supposes she would have to get over it. Or at least deal with it long enough to get knocked up.
Anguisette pipes in then, voicing her confusion over Killdare’s lack of knowledge. A smirk edges onto her lips as her golden gaze flips to the winged stallion. Well, she had certainly put him in his place. She remains silent as Lagertha explains Killdare’s presence. Well, she may have puffed out her chest a bit and flung a smug glance at Killdare; nothing too obvious though. As it turns out, she’s not really above gloating a bit. She doesn’t let the small bit of pride go to her head though. She is quite well aware that one battle won does not a warrior make. She needs more experience under her belt for that. Experience she has every intention of getting sooner rather than later.
Quite the lucky prisoner you are. Meeting the Khaleesi and her daughter on your first day here.
She tips an eyebrow at him, pinning him with her metallic gaze as she wonders just how long it will take him to make is next bantam reply.
Joscelin
Tiphon x Elysteria
html c insane | picture c mikanicole.deviantart.com
In becoming a Father, Killdare found that he liked children. Most of them were not so bad, not so bad at all. Sure his own boys could be a bit, overwhelming at times. Especially with the garish names their Mother had chosen (how he hoped she would let him name the next one). On the whole though, the young ones did not bother him as much as he thought they might. He had been young once, they all had, and he remembered what that was like. It was not so far away afterall, and funny how one remembers those days like they were only yesterday. The body aged as time went on, the mind though, sometimes it seemed it would never catch up. As though it did not truly comprehend the passing of time until one thought about it, really stopped and thought about it. How old was he now? 6? 7? Was he really? When had that happened? It had gone by so quickly.
He offers the young smokey filly a charming smile, she is full of talk, of answers. She is not unlike his own children, readily returning speech as if it is nothing at all. Khaleesi? The word is foreign, thick in his mind and mouth. Oh, yes surprise indeed he thinks, finding the Queen’s words as she confirms the child’s answer. General, Queen, this one was not lacking for titles. Were all the women of this blessed land in some seat of power? He is introduced, his name and purpose here all explained within moments to the girl. She smelled…familiar he did not know why, he didn’t make a point to spend much time with Gryffen, lucky for the kid. It did irk him though, this scent, he hated not being able to place a smell. Especially one that tickled his memory the way this did, like he should know why he had smelled it before. Perhaps though it was just a mixture of scents, everything was clawing at the other here, it was pure madness for his nostrils.
“ It is nice to meet you dear.” He offers the girl, she hadn’t done anything to him, he could be nice. “What a great responsibilty for your Mother, and I’m sure you are her best helper?” Children liked to help, well, most of them do. He thought this one would be no different. “I know my boys like to help out, hardest workers I know.” He winked and wrinkled his nose, his tail swishing playfully behind him.
“Ah, well I am pleased you think so,” he turns his head nonchalant to look at Joscelin. “Say, speaking of how lucky I am, who am I bunking with? With you? We are going to have an awesome time together.” He nodded his head in certainty.
