"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
12-13-2015, 02:28 PM (This post was last modified: 12-13-2015, 02:40 PM by Potion.)
forever young, i want to be forever young
There's a time for everything. It's the first thing that Potion notices, the first thing she remembers with her young and developing mind. The first constant, the first everlasting thing, the first but not the last- but she still doesn't know that. It's a first but it is not the first, there are others. The usual of course, like the sound of her Mother's and Father's voices, her beating heart, the crash of waves against cliffs and birds calling overhead. Not those things that seem to be ingrained within her very being, but things that she doesn't experience until she's born. The world is so much bigger than she would have ever guessed and it is filled with many wonderful and exciting things. What she likes most about that is that there is always another day for more.
The sun. It always brings the morning, every day and it never stops. Not ever, not even when the clouds roll over the sky and blot out it's light. It's not gone, not really Mother says, it's just hidden- tucked away for later. In the morning the birds sing, somehow they too know when that great ball of light will slip over the horizon.
The moon, that too brings something but it is called night- and it is beautiful. It's filled with a silver glow, painted against a million grains of sand, glittering like a beach made of stars. It brings sleep for some and still for others it brings hushed whispers and embraces. It brings the wolves lament as they cry to the sky, calling to it like a shunned lover who makes promises they can never keep.
Today the passing of time has brought her something else, fog. A creeping, heavy blanket that sways over the waters and crags. It too takes the light from the sun, veiling it with a grey film that leaves the edges blurred and haunting. It's still as well, so very quiet as though the fog has shooed the life from the Cove to make way for its suffocating presence.
Potion stands with her back to the cliffs, her thin legs finding footing among the smooth obsidian shards of rockface that have been worn by years of sea water.
12-14-2015, 01:36 AM (This post was last modified: 12-14-2015, 01:43 AM by Kirke.)
There’s nothing to do in the Cove.
Her mother hides and weeps, trying to avoid her father and aunts and uncles. Absorbed in her misery, she barely pays Kirke any mind. Her father and aunts and uncles are much the same, though for far different reasons. The siblings are often very busy, heading out on missions on some sort or other. Kirke understands little of it, though it all sounds very important. But it means that she is alone.
So she explores. On this particular morning she’s investigating the iron statue that stares out over the cliffs. Her father has told her that the statue is Khaos, his father and that once, long ago, he had been alive. He also tells her that Khaos is a god and that it is their duty to carry out his will in Beqanna. She’s not really sure what that means though.
She’s peering closely at the giant eye carved into the statue’s side when a sound rings out from the beach below. Her ears perk up, instantly curious. She peers out over the edge of the cliff, but the mists obscure her view and she decides to investigate. She finds the little animal path that traverses the cliff and makes her way down with practiced ease. And at the base of the cliff, in amongst the pitch black stones, stands a purple marked buckskin filly. She knows instantly the girl must be her sister. There’s no where else she could have gotten the purple from.
She smiles awkwardly, and approaches the girl. “Hello. I’m Kirke.”
Waves can be mesmerizing, steadily coming and going, back and forth, back and forth.
She stands in a daze, staring out across the water, not looking at anything really. Just thinking.
How long before the fog passed? Why had it come? She doesn't know these answers but it doesn't keep her from taking their presence into consideration. She had nothing better to do.
She didn't have much to do period. Father didn't like her straying too far, he told her it wasn't safe, that she needed to stay right here. Home, in the Cove. Sometimes she would ask him to take her along, he was always going somewhere, check on so and so. A name she can't remember even though she knows she's been told more than once. He goes and he checks, but he comes right back and so she could hardly be upset really. She just didn't understand why she couldn't help.
You are helping, he had said.
Then there was her grandmother, a very strange woman. Strange but classically beautiful and sophisticated- but her mind. Potion had considered on more than one occasion asking the woman if she was all there, but her uncle had warned her not to. So she refrained. Uncles, Aunt, she didn't lack for family, they all seemed to be here. Right in this one spot. If Potion had known any different she would have thought that was odd too, but she doesn't know apples from oranges on what is considered 'normal'.
The rocks shift and her ears follow first, then she turns her fine head in the same direction. A girl approaches, looking unsure, but she gives her name anyways. It's that name she's forgotten, the one Father has told her time and time again. Kirke'. "You are?" She asks, eyes floating across the purple girl, lingering on her wings and knowing then that this was her sister. She steps over, hoofs clinking against the polished surface that she crosses, coming very close to the girls face before speaking. "Hello." Her words are bright and airy, her little tail shifting with interest. "I'm Potion. You're my sister." It's a matter of fact statement, her lavender eyes reflecting the grey of the overcast sky as she nibbles at the girls spikey mane.
That was good right? She had seen Mother and Father greet one another in such away.
01-07-2016, 07:41 PM (This post was last modified: 01-07-2016, 07:42 PM by Kirke.)
a quote will go here when I can think of one :|
As the filly turns to look at her Kirke’s eyes narrow, analyzing the girl in front of her. There is nothing inherently special at first glance (besides the purple that she’s already spotted), but she doesn’t make a judgement on that yet. She knows from her father that there are many gifts that are not obvious to the eye - gifts that are even more pleasing to Khaos than her own colourful wings.
The girl questions her and Kirke cocks her purple head to the side, confused. She’s already given the filly her name - what more could she want? “I live here?” What exactly is she asking?
Finally the filly gives her own name (Potion? Interesting …), and states their obvious relation. “Yes. My mother’s name is Carys.” No need to mention their father’s name - it’s pretty obvious where they both got their purple from.
She wonders briefly how much time Potion spends with their father. Kirin visits Kirke only occasionally at the moment, to teach her how to use her wings, and about their family’s history. Does he visit Potion more (she can’t help but feel a little hint of jealousy)? And what does he teach her?
Her dark brown eyes travel out to the waves, where Potion had been starting moments before. “What were you looking at?”
01-13-2016, 09:04 AM (This post was last modified: 01-13-2016, 09:22 AM by Potion.)
forever young, i want to be forever young
Her sister seems taken aback, confused by her words. Potion is patient as Kirke goes on, she lives here, she says. Potion only smiles, a small smile but a smile nonetheless. Still she notices the narrowing of her sister's eyes, wondering why the other would look at her in such a way. Perhaps she was dirty, Father hated when she was dirty too. Maybe in this respect they were alike? Then she momentarily wondered how much her sister took after Father. She had purple of course, that much was apparent. She had wings as well, Father had those, not so vivid but he had them.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Of course, I mean to say, you are? As in Oh, YOU are Kirke." She gives clarification of her previous questions, "Father has spoken to me of you before." She is entirely forthcoming with this knowledge, with this interaction, wiggling her short tail and watching her sibling through purpled eyes.
She's young, curious as children tend to be. Looking at the filly's wings, wondering what they might feel like. Perhaps they are heavy? Isn't that terrible though? "Are they heavy? Do you want to be bigger? I bet they are not so heavy if you were bigger." It's an innocent enough question, it's meaning likely lost. Yet still she rambles on with it, as though anyone might know what she means to say. "Is it fun to fly? Oh, it looks so fun! I like to watch Father from the cliff, just there." She nods in the direction of their Grandfather's statue, but through the fog it is not currently visible. "Oh, Carys, yes. Well, I assumed that one was your mother."
There were little in the way of mares in the Cove and it was obvious this child did not belong to her Grandmother or her aunt. Soon enough she might have more reason to be confused as to which female had birthed her sibling, but not yet.
"Oh, me? Just the ocean, the fog." She turns herself to look at the endless choppy water. "It's so big isn't it? And it's always been too, Father says it was here before him, before Grandmother even. Isn't that interesting?"
Potion
Kirin x Nicia
mmm. bleh. idk what this is, maybe you can think of something nice in response lol xD
peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one
The thought is sticking in her head now, niggling away in the back of her mind.
Where exactly does Potion fit in their father’s favour?
The sudden tenacity of the thought surprises her. She’s never given it much thought, having never met her sister before, but … she wants to be their father’s favourite. She wants to be the first in his eyes.
But is she?
Potion doesn’t seem terribly special (a little air-headed even), but as Kirke’s already noted, there are many gifts that are not obvious to the eye. Is Potion so gifted? Or is she as ordinary as she seems?
Her eyes narrow momentarily, but quickly relax. There’s no way for her to know, except to wait and observe.
Happiness bubbles through her though when Potion mentions that father has spoken of her and a grin instantly spreads across her face. “Has he?” Maybe she is his favourite! He must think her special if he’s mentioned her to Potion.
The feeling is bolstered as her sister focuses in on her wings. “They’re a bit heavy, I suppose. But I’m used to them.” She ‘graciously’ flourishes them so that Potion can get a better look. “I want to be bigger, but my mother says they’ll grow with me and get bigger too.” She wonders briefly if they’ll get as big as her mother’s. She certainly hopes so! “Yes! I love flying! I’m not so good at it yet, but Father is teaching me!” She hopes he comes back soon for another flying lesson - she wants to be able to soar through the clouds like he can! Feeling confident, she decides to take the bold route and just straight out ask. “Is there anything that you can do?” Her ears flick towards her sister nervously.
Her head cocks to the side as Potion comments on her mother, and finds herself wondering after the girl’s own parentage. Besides Carys, the only other horses in the Cove are the children of Khaos - Potion’s mother must be one of father’s sisters. “Who’s your mother?”
Her brown eyes follow Potion’s lavender ones back out to sea. “Mother says that it’s full of fish and big things called whales.” She wants to see a whale, but she isn’t strong enough to fly far out over the sea yet. “I wonder if it was here before Khaos too.”
"Of course," she says, as if the answer is obvious. "Father says I should know all of my siblings" Her words have a studious and devoted tone, as if she would do anything for her Father. Not only does she take her learning seriously, not only would she do anything for Father, she actually enjoys it. She even offers to help whenever she can, though it is not too often that her help is needed.
"Soon." He always tells her. If Potion were asked, her opinion of soon and Father's, they were very different.
"Father flies beautifully doesn't he?" She asks Kirke while she looks up into the foggy sky. The veil of mist was ghostly-grey and silent as a cemetery. The gulls seemed keen to keep to their roosts in the cliff side "I bet he can even fly in the fog." She knows he didn't though, not unless he had to. It was risky he had told her, it was uncertain, and Father did not like things that were uncertain.
When Kirke asks if there is anything she can do, Potion slowly returns her purpled gaze to her winged sister. For a moment she is uncertain, contemplative on the question. "I'm not supposed to tell..." She trails off, her words growing dimmer as she speaks them. Her lavender eyes finding the smooth black rocks at her feet before she again looks up with a smile. "But we're sisters right? So I can tell you. You musn't tell though, okay?" She blinks seriously, meeting the girl dead in the eye with her own. "I can make things big, or i can make them little." She giggles, whispering the words as if there was anyone to hear their shared secret.
"Oh look! I'll even show you." She traipses to the left, standing back a bit so as to give Kirke the best full body view. "Okay ready?" She asks, not only her sister but herself as well. Taking a deep breath before releasing it again, she closes her eyes and in moments she is not a little filly. She expands, fills out, grows and ages. She is a mare, a full grown woman, standing where once a girl had stood. She laughs joyfully, prancing about her now much smaller sister. "See, See?!", she calls excitedly, "and now I'll change back." She does so just as simply, phasing from a mare to a filly again.
"I can do it to others too!" Her tawny ears flickering against her purple hair. My Mother?" Repeating the question to make sure she heard right. Why, everyone knew her Mother didn't they? "Nicia of course."
peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one
She feels rather pleased with the matter of fact way that Potion talks about their father. Of course he would talk about Kirke. She is important to him, she is special. Just as special as he is himself.
“Yes, yes he does.” She thinks back to the last time Kirin had taken her on a flying lesson. Her father had flown in circles around her, showing her twirls and dives and swoops. She hopes she can fly like that someday, but she knows she’s going to have to get much bigger and her wings much stronger before that happens. “Yeah he can!” She’s seen him fly through the fog before, but she’s been too nervous to follow him yet. She’s too scared of crashing into things that she can’t see. “I hope he teaches me how to figure out where things are in the fog.”
Potion suddenly seems secretive when Kirke asks if she can do anything, and Kirke’s brown eyes instantly narrow at her sister. “Of course I won’t tell! I promised!” She’s only confused though when Potion says she can make things bigger and smaller. And then Potion shows her.
And suddenly Kirke understands what true jealousy is.
Right before her eyes her sister transforms into a beautiful adult mare, and within seconds, back to her normal child self. When Potion mentions she can do it to others, the feeling only deepens.
This … this is something very special. This ability of Potion’s is something wonderful, magical … something their father must be very, very proud of. And something he probably finds to be very useful.
Kirke will never be his favourite.
But Potion is still speaking, innocent to the struggle going on in her sister’s mind. Kirke covers her pain by forcing an awkward smile. “Wow, that’s incredible!” Which is at least truthful enough.
“Ohh, of course, the lady Nicia.”That explains it, she thinks bitterly. Lady Nicia is another child of Khaos, another of the favoured ones. It makes sense that an ability so special would come from two of Khaos’ children. And as for Kirke, well, only half of her blood comes from Khaos. Her mother’s ancestry isn’t special enough to carry anything so wonderful. And there’s nothing she can do about it.
She holds the feelings in, forcing a pleasant mask over her internal bitterness. Lashing out at her gifted sister would gain her nothing except her father’s displeasure. And she doesn’t want that. She never wants that.
So she plasters another smile on her face, looking at the girl who will forever be their father’s favourite. The girl who will forever have the one thing she wants. “Want to play a game?”
She doesn't comprehend any hostility from her sister. It is likely because she does not expect it, so she see's what she wants to see. Perceives the world around her the way in which she wishes it to be. Potion is to set on the fact that they are sisters, that they are family and she knows to love her family. Kirin had already been instilling this into her, ingraining that importance of one's own blood and kin.
The tawny paint-dipped girl is filled with as much excitement as a puppy with a new ball all throughout the conversation. Listening intently when they speak of Father because she knows his wings are grand, knows that Father himself if grand.
"Of course! He tells me of all my brothers and sisters, of my family. He tells you too right?" She is sure that Father does not slack on his teachings, he was always so invigorated when he spoke of his lineage and his lines and they great work they were doing in the Cove.
"I just know he'll teach you!" Her words edging on a yell with her elation on the topic. "Father wants us to be our best, he says it's important." A whinny anoints the end of her revelation and she dances in place for a bit, filled with entirely too much energy to be standing idle.
"Good! Promises are best kept and secrets too." She decides this is truth and smiles broadly. "Thank you!" The bitter notes in the complement and on her sisters face fail to gain her attention for what they were. Potion couldn't see past the love she herself was feeling for the girl, so far she had liked all her family, even Kingpin with his bleeding colored eyes.
"A game? Sure, what kind of game?" Something was better than nothing, a game sounded just right to lose some pent up energy. "We can play hide and seek, we can chase the seals!" The suggestions spill from her mouth like a river. "Uncle Kult says one time they even burned one! Gross huh?" Though she imagined how nasty the creature must have looked all burnt up she did not think anything odd of the activity.
peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one
She’s glad that her sister has not picked up on her frustration. With her wondrous ability, Potion must be their father’s favourite, and it would be bad for her to be on the girl’s bad side.
But while she can hide the anger, she can’t get rid of it. It festers beneath the surface, egged on even more by Potion’s open and friendly attitude. The girl has no idea what she’s taken from Kirke, none at all.
But there’s nothing she can do about it, not yet, not now. She’s too young to be useful yet. But she will be in time.
“Of course he does!” Though it seems that perhaps he does not, at least not to the extent he discusses with Potion. She knows of her siblings, but she certainly hadn’t known of Potion’s ability. It’s the sort of thing you would discuss with daughters you consider to be important … right?
“I certainly hope so!” If she could fly through the fog like father she could be so much more useful to him, patrolling their borders and the surrounding territories. Maybe she could even help in his dealings with the Valley, and in the raiding parties to bring back more gifted horses for breeding stock. “Yes, I want to be the best.” She accidentally slips in a little emphasis. What she would do to gain more of father’s favour …
But not at this sister’s expense.
Potion politely thanks her for keeping the secret (though it still rankles that it had been kept from her in the first place), and agrees to a game. “I was thinking hide and seek, but I didn’t even think about chasing the seals.” Her little face twists into a grimace when Potion says that Uncle Kult had burned one. Kirke has no taste for violence like some of the children of Khaos, though she at least can understand the need for it. It’s important for them to keep their skills honed in case they should be attacked. “Oh second thoughts, maybe just hide and seek for now.” She doesn’t want to think about the burned body as they chase them around. “I can be it first if you like?”
![[Image: kirke.png]](http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y125/102938475611/kirke.png)
