"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
OOC: Partially recycled from an unused thread. Have at it!
Snow. It sticks to what she can claim of a mane, soothes the raw skin that opens along the edges of her scars, her flesh an endless field of volcanic ash demarcated with the fault of her sores. The edges of her ears are crinkled, shrunken inwards, filtering the wind past them though it would not have mattered anyway. There was nothing to hear. The wind and her heartbeat, the wind and her heartbeat, the wind and her heartbeat. Her hooves drag regular, straight lines through the snow as she climbs. She is freezing. Eventually the pure, glittering colorness of her surroundings is marred by what she leaves behind, blood dripping over chest from a sore for the snow to drink.
She imagines it in half-section, a drop suspended in water, curling jellyfish-like, tributaries a mockery of her veins.
She doesn't look up until she's reached the top of the mountain. They fascinated her. Quiet. Unreachable. Ancient. 'I'll just take a look,' she said to herself. And yet there she was, frozen and smiling. Beqanna opened up beneath her, kingdoms and herds alive ant-like and milling at her feet. Their daily dramas, the lives she watched play out in front of her every day - miniaturized. And in the center of it all the Meadow - her Meadow.
She was five, and yet she'd never left that Meadow. It was home, the tiny copse of trees surrounding the only safe place she'd ever known. From that place she'd watched others come and go, dreamed of a life like that. Like what? Anything, really. She wouldn't class herself as lonely - it was impossible to miss what you'd never had.
And yet now she was in the Field.
If it were physically possible she might have been nauseous. It wasn't so far removed from where she'd lived her whole life, but to her it might have been whole worlds away. It even smelled different.
It was night, long after the sun had retreated beneath the horizon, long after its bloom had disappeared from its red-purple glory against the very same mountain she'd been daydreaming of to keep herself calm. She couldn't be out during the day, but that suited her current anxiety - there were fewer horses around.
Anhedonia
i've grown familiar with villains that live in my head
they beg me to write them so they'll never die when i'm dead
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Magnus liked the field during the night. He liked the quiet, the stillness, the fewer souls milling around. In his experience, horses that came to the field during the night were souls who appreciated that too. Some came for more insidious reasons—but many came simply because they, like him, enjoyed the silence of it. Now that winter was settling around Beqanna, hugging her curves and valleys, it was even quieter. As Magnus descended upon the field, landing quietly on the frost-covered ground, he smiled in appreciation.
It did not take long for the golden stallion to see the mare standing off to the side. His mouth twisted into a frown as he watched her for a second, taking in the patches of missing hair and deformed ears, before he tucked his golden wings into his side and made his way over toward her. “Hello there,” he greeted gently, his voice husky and as smooth as honeyed whiskey. He did not stare at her deformities and instead just held her gaze calmly. Magnus had seen plenty of horses in worse shape—sometimes by birth and sometimes by the rigors of war—but he knew such scars were only skin-deep. They did not define.
“My name is Magnus.” One corner of his scarred lips rose into a crooked smile, and he glanced around them, where the darkness of night was beginning to deepen, the sky turning into a truer shade of black. “It is a pleasant evening. I enjoy the cold.” Different from the humidity of his birth home, different even from the mild bite of his current home, but still enjoyable. “So what brings you to the field this late at night?”
Only the love for her kingdom could have the power to drag her out into this insane cold. The jungle girl could not stand the cold, warm springs to the other kingdoms are cold to her, so obviously winter was hell. She shifts into her feline form, surprisingly this form is warmer, she wonders why. Large black paws sink deeply into the sparkling blankets of white, moonlight washing over her sleek back. Tail hung low, flicking side to side irritably. Her journey is not too long, for the field now comes into view, horses spot the winter scenery, big groups, couples, heck, singles even. Our feline girl wishes not to scare, so she shifts back into her compact, thin haired, equine body.
She strides along, shivering slightly as a cool night breeze ruffled her thick ebony mane and nipped at her warm neck underneath. She pushes into a slow jog, her head held low, pushing herself up a small incline. Here she can see all the action. Many were already spoken for and already on their way to new homes, but something curious piques her interest.
Her green eyes pinpoint a mare like none she has ever seen, skin scorched and partially raw, ears partially crumbled…what happened to her....she starts toward her, this mare is obviously in pain and cold...but a winged buckskin stag beats her there. She makes it just in time to catch his name...Magnus, he looked to have a few years under his belt. She notices how calm and collected he is, how he looks into her eyes and not her body. She smiles, he is respectful to do so, and Naga follows suit.
Hello, I am Naga of the Amazons. You must be freezing, I know I am, but that is because I live in a rainforest…
She gets awkward, remember, our girl is not very good with her social skills….though her eyes show compassion, she is trying. But she hopes the mare before her does not take any offence. She looks Magnus, feeling rude for not introducing herself to him as well. She nods her head to him apologetically, her voice sincere.
I’m sorry Magnus, I have a bit of a one track mind. It is a pleasure meeting you as well. Though I wish I could say I also love the cold...but I’m a jungle girl...
She does not want to push right into asking the mare about considering to live in the Amazons just yet, even though she feels that the warmth of the Jungle would be good for her in the state she is in, it would be more comfortable. But she waits, she wants to give her a chance to open up to them. She hopes she is not off put by her awkward greeting.
Her life is busy, just as her stomach once again bulged under the thick winter coat. It was worrisome to her, the recent changes that had occured since the birth of her daughter. Now she was carrying a second? How dumb was she really? Then again who wouldn't cave to temptation once in a while. She had spent her life completely disciplined and rigid in her rules. Now it was time to have fun, to learn of the world and why so many just threw their lives away, never working to attain anything. So far it seemed simple enough, its easy just to twiddle your thumbs and do nothing.
Eona had been keeping her on her toes for the entire year, especially now that the girl had met her father. She was as whimsical as the wind, keeping track of her was almost impossible, and she was begining to wonder how Gallows had managed. Then again the mare was older then herself and raised many more then Hestia had. Considering that Eona was her first.
They say the second time is easier, but Hestia was definately not seeing the benifits one bit. She infact had left the comfort of home to find herself meandering through the meadows and feilds of beqanna making every effort to stay away from others with her plodding oversized load. Resting every once in a while to prevent the swelling from beginning. It was good to get out, to have the fresh air, no longer tied or strapped down. She had left the child with Fennick, hopefully the girl would obey.
Rgiht now it was time for her to have some peace and quiet. She wasn't used to having everyone around bombarding her, especially someone suckling at her tit; constantly there tagging along like like she was their mother or something. Oh wait, she was... well she needed a break from being momma, maybe try being a diplomat like she used to.
Running into the growing group her grumpiness ebs to the back of her mind, Hello, I'm Hestia, nice to meet you She's not quiet sure what is going on after all she had just arrived, but she was sure that the others would fill her in quite soon.
11-29-2015, 07:35 PM (This post was last modified: 11-29-2015, 07:36 PM by Anhedonia.)
Her breath curls in elaborate clouds of vapor from her nose, zig-zagging back and forth with the motion of her shiver. She was accustomed to a chill as even mild temperatures could get to her if she stayed stationary for too long. Her favorite days were in the stagnant, cicada hours of summer - the embrace of the sun could reach her even in her copse of trees, streaming in just enough to warm her without hurting her sensitive skin.
She is so preoccupied with her nerves that she completely misses a vessel of its source - handsome though, a voice soothing, much her opposite. He looks her in the eye, a kindness she is grateful for. Conversation is hard enough without feeling as if her burnt edges were on display.
"Hello Magnus, I'm Anhedonia," she replies, her voice smooth, far more beautiful than her outward appearance. (Sometimes she talks to herself, or the squirrels, repeating lines of dialogue she heard between friends and lovers in the Meadow. It makes her feel connected.) "I like the cold as well, though only for a short time," she answers, studying him, the casual aire. She is miserable at communicating, but excellent at reading others. She does not realize that watching them from the shadows was intrusive, but she can read another creature almost without fault from so many years spent watching and learning. But his question is stumping - what was she doing here? "I um...well, I've never left the Meadow before today. So I wanted to see if I could do it. What about you?"
She is aware, tangentially, that the Field has more of a purpose than her home in the Meadow. But she couldn't say what it was.
Another visitor approaches and suddenly Anhe feels nervous. One conversation partner was nearly as daunting a task as her mountain daydreams. Two threatened to send her hobbling back to the safety of her trees. However there is something of an endearing awkwardness to the mare that makes Anhe feel a little more comfortable, and she finds herself offering a smile at what she gauges as an almost apologetic look.
"A rainforest?" she asks, looking confused. "What's a rainforest?"
And then...another. Now she feels true panic.
"Nice to meet you as well, Hestia," she answers, managing to quell the instinct to run.
She is determined to escape the meaning of her namesake.
Anhedonia
i've grown familiar with villains that live in my head
they beg me to write them so they'll never die when i'm dead
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
It does not take long for others to join their conversation, and while he personally does mind the company, he would be blind to not see her discomfort. His gold-flecked eyes move between the two dark mares who now make their pair a group and then back to Anhedonia. He gives her a small smile and takes a step backward, opening up the space between them and hopefully giving her some breathing room. He had been at the kingdom recruiting game a long time; he could tell when someone was on the edge of flight.
His scarred mouth gives a shadow of a smile. He knew that some did not understand the question—there were even others that despised it. On the surface, it was a simple question, obvious even. But Magnus knew that there was more than met the eye and there were a lot of driving forces behind the souls that made their way to the field. Some simply wanted a home, a place to call their own. Some wanted a place to make their name known and fight their way to glory. Others just wanted a haven, a sanctuary.
He was committed to helping each one find that place—even if it ended up not being the Gates.
“I like coming to the field and helping individuals find a home,” he replied honestly, shrugging his battle-scarred shoulders. “Plus it’s a great place to make conversation.” Many assumed that Magnus, soldier to his core, would not prefer much talking, but the truth was that he loved it, especially with women. He liked to spend hours getting to know them, learning all about them—and mares, well, they brought out the best in him. “It’s always good to see an Amazon woman,” he smiled at Naga, not knowing she was his half-sister (although, truthfully, dozens throughout Beqanna were). “And nice to meet you, Hestia.”
Turning back to Anhedonia, he held her gaze. “So now you’ve seen you can indeed leave the meadow,” his voice was husky, laced with good humor. “Is there anything else you’d like to see if you can do?”
OOC: Been a few days so I'm just posting to keep things moving.
Is there anything else you’d like to see if you can do?
Her motivations were perhaps similar to most who wiled away a few hours in the Field before being whisked away to a new home: she wanted to matter. There was a keen intelligence that begged her to do something more than make a home within a small band of trees that few others rarely ventured in to. It begged her to put it to use, to speak, to learn, to be something more than ‘uncertain’. Though it had all been laced with a thin veneer of panic, this journey to the Field had been the most exciting thing she’d ever done.
And what she wouldn’t give to feel it again!
But where she was concerned, there were always complications. She didn’t necessarily understand what a ‘home’ entailed, but she wanted to be useful. She needed shade, or otherwise she would only be able to come out at night. And even if there was plentiful shade she would still only be able to speak from the shadows, to leave them for short amounts of time. There were many thoughts that worried her, but being hobbled by the things she’d been born with seemed a different kind of death.
“I’d like to see what else is out there,” she answered, turning her gaze to the mountain she’d been daydreaming of for just a brief moment before returning to the trio that had gathered to greet her. “Maybe find somewhere that I can help,” she offered, trimming the full thought slightly, as wanting somewhere to belong seemed a woefully sad thing to express about oneself.
“Where do you come from?”
She was looking at Magnus when she asked, but she wanted to hear about anywhere the mares could describe too. It was a big, wide world she’d never seen.
Anhedonia
i've grown familiar with villains that live in my head
they beg me to write them so they'll never die when i'm dead
Kimber is a strange girl, she's quite the loud mouth but in social settings she likes to take the backseat and observe. She watches as the mare comes over the mountain, of decent build but also looking like she is missing hair. Kimber wonders why this is so, was she mange infested? Her curiosity was quickly answered as several other horses were interested in her.
Better put in your two cents too, can't have the enemy getting stronger.
Kimber is a little odd herself, she's of Andalusian mix breeding with her mother's honey eyes but her father's unpredictability and random coloring. Thank Carnage and Prague, by all means, for the immortal black-to-blue ombre lady; she was not such.
First, a Gates member - Magnus, whom she has heard of but never met, followed by an Amazon (the rainforest is a hard scent to miss) and a Valley mare. "Magnus," she says with a flat tone and then looks to the mare being wined and dined, "Did I catch your name correctly? Anhedonia?" she says with a slightly more chipper demeanor. "I missed yours, Amazonian, but I caught Hestia's while I was watching from afar," her eyes scroll across the other two - sometimes Kimber felt as though these people were fresh meat to some of the other kingdoms. She would personally rather the other lions hunt and she'd be glad to come and win the kill of of them. Work smarter, not harder. "I'm Kimber from the Chamber, the rainforest may it be tempting is also basically the hell pit of Beqanna when it comes to heat, I get dry skin just passing by," she says truthfully, she's never been much on diplomatic policies or the fact you should probably just bite your tongue, "But if you're into that sort of thing, hey it's great." She then turns to the Valley mare, knowing she's never visited there herself, "Anyway, I'm not here to really sway you - I'd be happy to show you a tour of my home and if you enjoy it, you're welcome to stay." Kimber was not a begging, promise the world, hang the moon type of girl - what you see is what you get, if you don't want to be somewhere leave.
Her mentality was both the best and worst part about her.
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
To matter. Have purpose. They were things that Magnus could understand, appreciate even. While he was happy to escort any soul home to the Gates who wanted to call her home, the truth was that he was even happier when his companion had an urge to contribute in some way. Not all contributed in the same way—not all felt the urge to push themselves in battle or test their wit in steals—but everyone who had a heart for the Gates contributed in one way or another. It was always a joy to see how they managed it.
“That is a good aspiration,” he responds lightly to her answer, turning his gaze briefly to the borders of the field. “There is certainly a lot to see.” Throughout his life, he had managed to see a good portion of it. He had lived in five kingdoms, held ranks in three of them, had died and then been re-born, and was now doing his best to rebuild his former love’s home. There was hardly a corner of Beqanna that he had not visited during this life or the last—and while he was partial to some, to see all was a pleasure.
At her question, he dips his head slightly, inky mane falling down his neck. “I’m from the Gates, one of the nearby kingdoms.” He pauses, rich voice faltering in thought, before he gathers himself. “We are looking for people, like you, who would like to help—to contribute.” One corner of his mouth pulls into a frown as Kimber walks up and introduces herself. He stiffens, lips pressing together as he lets her speak.
Of course the Chamber was one of the reasons the Gates needed help, but Magnus didn’t bring up the fact that Kimber’s kingdom had led the attack on his home. Instead, he simply remains silent, eyes burning as he watched her. When she is done, he turns back to Anhedonia. “The Gates is a great many thing to a great many people. It can be a haven, a sense of purpose, or just a home.” It was one of the things he loved most about it. So many souls finding what they needed there—whether they joined the ranks or not.
“If you would like to learn more, or see it yourself, I would be happy to escort you there.”
12-12-2015, 04:36 PM (This post was last modified: 12-12-2015, 04:36 PM by Anhedonia.)
To Anhe, everyone was beautiful. In comparison to her they were all shining paragons, physical perfection she could never achieve. She was not bitter. In most ways her lack of beauty released her of burden. Little was expected of her, and once one got over her appearance they tended to forget about her. They might be revulsed if they ever glimpsed her again, but they never assigned her potential. She would never sneak by anyone, but being underestimated was its own form of stealth.
She watched the easy fall of Magnus' mane as he tilted his head, an unconscious thing, as if the strands understood what to do to enhance him. She shook her head without thought just to feel the few patches she could call a mane flopping against her neck.
The Gates. She'd heard others in the Meadow mentioning it. She was vaguely aware of its recent conflict though the idea of war was foreign to her. It seemed to a shame to attack one another - life was precious wasn't it? Even hers. It might be a worthy cause to go somewhere recently hurt by war's touch. She considered his explanation, about to answer when she saw the chance in his expression. Often, subtle inflection in conversation was lost on her, but as usual her excellent ability to read another's body language made what transpired understandable.
The newcomer was a shocking, if beautiful, combination of colors that made Anhedonia's head spin. She introduced herself as Kimber and then launched in to an explanation of a rainforest followed by a dizzying number of words that Anhe thought included an offer to visit the mare's home. Disoriented by the blast of conversation, Anhe had to pause. Being overwhelmed was never enough to turn her off from a situation if her still standing in a growing group of horses was any indication. But Magnus - who she really didn't know, but who had been kind to her - was uncomfortable, if only subtly. That meant something to Anhedonia.
She offered Kimber a smile which she then turned on the rest of the group, grateful for their company but thinking, perhaps...it was time to move away from the Meadow for good.
"Thank you Kimber, that's a generous offer. But I think I'm going to take Magnus up on his," she replied, turning her gaze to the stallion. "Can I follow you? I - of course - don't know the way."
Butterflies battered around inside her stomach. But she wasn't nervous. She was excited.
Anhedonia
i've grown familiar with villains that live in my head
they beg me to write them so they'll never die when i'm dead
OOC: Thanks for all the offers everyone. You guys da best. Meet you in the Gates, Magoo <3
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