"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
05-21-2016, 11:34 AM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2016, 11:34 AM by Kirin.)
keep you like an oath may nothing but death do us part
There was nothing to compare to the sweet reality of being man, nothing to replace the power he felt in his very fingertips. Fingers, hands, he soured, grumbling under his breath as he tilted carelessly over the forest of the common grounds. Autumn sent a chilling self-realization under his feathers and it did nothing to better his mood on the matter. He had so enjoyed the taste of freedom that came with being man, the busy life, the food, the killing. The fae were fickle creatures, spiteful even to give Kirin that sort of unique taste of ability and then snatch it away. Didn’t they know who he was? It made his very blood boil at the thought, sent a growling deep within his throat as he snatched at a passing sparrow. Even the little birds knew him, the lavender stallion was very much bird-like himself but still, they learned to avoid his games all the same- clever birds.
Speaking of games, Kirin had been dropped back off in Beqanna in a most unceremonious way. Tossed end over end until he lay sprawled over the silvered sands of the beach, pressing his hooves into the earth only to make failed peace with having hooves again. Miniature cuts crossed his legs like he’d had that audacity to run through a bramble like an imbecile, bright but crusting against the pastel shade of purple. One particular laceration on his forearm was ugly and puckered and it stung most unpleasantly when he walked. No doubt it would leave behind a nasty and unwanted scar and oh, how he had hollered at the realization back in the Cove. His enraged voice had echoed without harmony against the craggy cliffsides, sending flocks of gulls fleeing from their roost from some unknown danger.
To top it off his neck was sore, his ribs as well, hell, he hurt all over really and that is why he left- choosing to find somewhere else to let his temper stew from recent magic-filled events. If you can even imagine the thistle colored male was more on edge than he usually was, he had difficulty sleeping and angered easily and often. This year he relentlessly scoured the lands for mares, those that were his, those that weren’t his. The most embarrassing symptom was how easily he startled, jerking around unwantedly at the crash of a large wave against the cliffs, the snap of twig as thrushes left the bushes. Kirin was not a frightened pigeon, rarely did such things bother him but now they did- without his permission these feelings slowly soiled his once pristine mannerisms.
Everything was so vivid still, fresh in his mind like sprouting spring grass. Smells of brick and linen haunted him, the gentle buzz of a thing called electricity etched itself against the backdrop of each thought. The bustle of a castle, the sound of voices against high ceilings, memories of warm, perfumed baths. Perhaps that’s why he had a very un-Kirin like landing, brushing far too close to the spruce trees as he tossed himself through the air while deep in thought. A most ungraceful landing, ,tripping over his own long legs and hurriedly righting himself before looking around. Did anyone see? he wondered, tucking his lavender plumes to his sides and taking a few long, calming breaths.
The tobiano stallion was not well versed in the happenings of Beqanna. He couldn’t tell you what quests had just transpired, or what herds and families had power, or even who was currently on what throne. In fact, he could barely even name off all the kingdoms in this land! Rather, he preferred to leave the duties of the adults to far more capable horses of the realm and occupy himself through his daily wanderings and discoveries.
Usually his days were fairly quiet. He’d birdwatch for a couple hours in the brisk morning (he often found the birds’ songs most pleasant in that time), horsewatch for a couple hours later, and then explore some new scenery each afternoon. During today’s otherwise typical birdwatching adventure though, out of the corner of his eye, he spied a peculiar and rather fat purple bird most ungracefully tumbling down not far away.
Giving a quick snort of surprise, the stocky stallion began wandering over. As he neared the lavender figure, he slowed, realizing that the bird was actually a horse – a stallion – much like himself. His brows furrowed… he wouldn’t expect a horse to have such a rough landing without reason. Perhaps this stallion had been in the midst of a battle, in which case he should make himself disappear quickly. He glanced around for the foe, but saw no other.
Returning his gaze to the stallion, who had now seemed to straighten himself out and look more presentable, Clark couldn’t help but notice the plethora of wounds that decorated his legs. They didn’t look like battle scars from other horses… maybe just a record of all the stallion’s clumsy landings, he deduced.
“That looked painful,” he nickered, his voice light and jovial. “You do that often?” Polite greetings weren’t his strong suit.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
keep you like an oath may nothing but death do us part
Each slow, deep inhalation of breath is enough to clear his head for only moments, the steady rise and fall of his chest is more necessity than a means to soothe.
It was one thing to have his mind taken over, it was a completely other issue to have this nonsense affect his day in the physical sense. Kirin coveted his wings and thus his flying skills, he had worked hard on them to perfect them as much he could and he soured to think that that too was a set back from his recent fairy-quest. Was it not bad enough he had already made himself a fool in front of Misra? They didn’t ask much these fairies, just robbed you of it instead, what a foul trade.
As he stood glowering, bickering to himself and looking sidelong once or twice to see if anyone was coming it seemed he did not thoroughly check. The approach of the other was enough to start him before his voice ever reached his lavender ears. Kirin jerked, his skin seemed to leap from his body as he spooked twisting about in a clumsy sort of fashion. Before his long legs had never bothered him, now they seemed a mess and a trap- something to trip over. When the man speaks his ears flatten both in embarrassment and distrust because who was to say this was not some foul trick, who’s to say the games and pranks had ended?
It was all unusual, an out of body experience and though Kirin wrestled with his reactions and the clammy feeling that crept along his thistle colored coat on the outside, inside the real Kirin was howling. Angry and powerless in these moments, until the out of place feeling subsided and once again he could take control of his own actions. As it were this time he growled as he regained leadership of himself, silver eyes falling cooly on the painted stallion before him.
That looked painful, you do that often?
Often? Absolutely not. Kirin did that never and that was precisely the problem, he wasn’t himself lately, and how he hated not being himself. “Of course I don’t, I’m a magnificent flyer on any given normal day.” Who was this then, this nosey question asker? Kirin looked him over slowly, trying to decide if they had ever crossed paths, surely he would remember wouldn’t he? It is not often that his presence found the company of men, not that he had qualms with the company of either sex. In all honesty he was as open as you could be to any sort of company he might find pleasurable, and his thirst in that aspect was never ending.
“I’m Kirin, what is it they call you?” he took a moment to straighten himself as he asked, eyeing the other with an open if not inappropriate curiosity.
On any given normal day. The word “normal” caught the tobiano’s attention, and he quickly glanced about the pair, half expecting a tsunami or hurricane to be barreling towards them. If so, they better quickly find some shelter. Luckily, the sky remained a lovely cerulean, dotted only with a couple fluffy white clouds, and Clark found himself returning his attention to the lavender stallion. Beautiful day, but this winged stallion was far more interesting.
“What’s so abnormal about today?” he questioned, raising a brow skeptically but finding a small smile sneaking onto his lips. “Or... does your flying abilities dictate the normality of each day?” His smile had developed into a full on grin at this point, not in mocking, but just in good banter. Although a full grown stallion by age and body, his maturity level far trailed those of his age.
“Kirin,” he then found himself repeating after the stallion’s introduction. A good, strong name, though the painted stallion could not honestly say he’d heard the infamous name before. Perhaps he would have behaved differently if he had. Perhaps he wouldn’t. “I’m Clark,” he merely answered instead. “You from these parts?”
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
keep you like an oath may nothing but death do us part
Kirin huffed, prickling at the other male and his inquiries. The hackles of wysteria colored backside rose into a stiff ridge along his back between his shoulders and wings. What a sass.
As the question reached his ears, registered in his mind, he glared, clearly suffering some sort of embarrassment. He felt like the other male was making fun of him somehow and that little smile, he wasn’t fooled. “I’ll tell you what normal is. A day without interference from some fairy.” The words were almost a growl as they left him, clearly he was not amused. Kirin didn’t take kindly to the fairies little inconveniences, especially not ones on this grand scale. “Snatched me from me beach, then tossed me back with this, this, unacceptable state of mind.”
The lavender stallion was obviously upset by this revelation, feeling taken advantage of or something of the manner. Funny isn’t that? Ironic. Kirin could dish it out well enough but he was not one to suffer it. He was ill-suited for such characteristics, blame his Sire. “My flying should be perfection, yet my head has nonsense rattling about it like a shattered shell.” The indignity of it all, poor Kirin. What possessed him to spew such personal information at the painted man was beyond him, this was an outright stranger, perhaps that’s why his practice of secrecy left him.
Maybe he wanted the other to share in his bad day, yeah, that was likely it. Toss his woes on the other until he too felt the weight of them- if only. The repetition of his name is the only thing that left this man’s mouth that had so far caused him only indifference. The exchange of the bay tobiano’s calling was only matter of courtesy he was sure but Kirin accepted the knowledge all the same. When asked if he was from here he scoffed, pulling a thistle colored wing over his gaping jaw.
“From here? This forest?” he looked around, scrutinizing the trees now. “Absolutely not. I’m the son of Khaos, I live in Silver Cove of course, you don’t already know that?” Oh, now his interest had peaked, it wasn’t often they didn’t know him but he kind of liked that sometimes. In this moment he felt it gave him some sort of upperhand.
Fairy. Clark had heard whispers about these strange Beqannian myths before… tales of little winged creatures that both wreaked havoc on these lands and bestowed strange gifts. The tobiano stallion had never seen one himself, but he did often wonder what they looked like. Perhaps it was that he already had been birthed with a gift (albeit one he never cared for) so that they never felt he deserved a visit. But that only made him more curious.
“I can’t imagine fairies would be that mean,” he began as his stocky form began levitating off the ground. At first, he just floated, a couple feet off the ground, before his body began shrinking and shrinking until he was roughly the size of a squirrel. Then with a glittery poof of dust, sparkling translucent wings appeared from his withers. “Do I look like a fairy now?” he asked, his voice a bit higher in pitch. “They don’t seem so tough!”
He himself glanced behind him at his wings (or as best he can) and spied his alabaster rump shining through. Furrowing his brow, he snorted and with another poof, he was the shape of a small human man… with wings… in a red, velveteen dress. “…what about now?” he asked, looking down at his new, strange appendages.
With another snort, he suddenly returned to the ground, without wings, without sparkles, and without human arms. Back to normal ole boring Clark. With a quick shake of his head, he felt his mane lightly rustle down his neck, a reassurance to himself that he was back to normal. “Magic makes anyone’s head rattle. You just gotta learn how to break outta it,” he commented calmly, completely ignorant of potential repercussions of admitting his trait to the lavender stallion. “Personally,” he continued with a small, dorky grin, “I just shake my head until it feels normal again.”
Then the lavender stallion continued to speak, introducing his home and lineage. Clark stared at him blankly. He had heard of the cove, but the name Khaos meant nothing to him. He supposed he could quickly learn more about this supposedly famous Khaos, but he’d found that all the family names and titles and whatnot bored him to death. Rather, with a cheeky grin, he bowed his head to the purple stallion. “Please forgive my ignorance, Kirin, son of Khaos, of the Silver Cove.”
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
keep you like an oath may nothing but death do us part
The lines of his lavender lips pursed as the tabiano spoke, eyeing him with the utmost unsated hunger. He was in a horrible mood (what else is new) but this sort of horrible mood was different from the others, normally he chose to be horrible. That makes all the difference you know, the choice. Clark begins telling him how he just cant fathom that fairies could be so awful, so mean. Well mister, they could. Kirin insists. The silver of his eyes become almost beady little things as the other goes on speaking and for a moment there is a glare of silver fire in them, or is there?
Of course that is when things get weird, a poof, a puff of dust or smoke or glitter. Shimmering pieces falling about and catching on the air, some sweeping up Kirin’s nostrils, others blinding him as they fall as irritants into his eyes. When they do clear he jerks, not ready to see the sight before him, the tiny little Clark flying in front of his face. It’s embarrassing really, the surprise, the thump of his heart as it rumbles in his chest then catches in his throat. The painted man’s actions enough to send him pacing back a few steps to get away from him, his transparent wings and his tiny sharp voice.
Kirin almost doesn’t hear the question, he’s too confused and startled to register what he hears enough to answer. Then another snap, maybe a poof and Clark once more changes before his eyes. A wee little man he becomes, the shape of spotted equine lost to its alienness. This is even worse, this man creature, this funny colored thing, its pelt hanging off its frame in a way Kirin found grotesque. He snaps his eyes shut in a hurry, willing it away and doesn’t watch as the horse molds itself back into its usual, everyday shape. They only open as the other shakes his head, threads of his mane flinging down his neck and he himself doesn’t seem upset by all the commotion.
However the lavender covered stallion isn't as calm, raising his wings and flapping them forward in irritance. “How could you...how dare you..what is the meaning of this…” Most of his angered prattle was lost as the spit flew from his mouth as he hurriedly strung sentences together to berate the one in front of him. This is before what really occurred to him registered. If he had thought it out first he would realize that the paint just used Magic, could easily bop him on the head, poof him into a duck or a girl or a pig. When he has his tantrum, “Shake my head you say, I ought to shake your head you weird little lump!” , he straightens, pressing his wings to his chest as if smoothing a jacket.
The apology he will take as a compliment reaches him, as does the realization of the Magic just used. His eyes widen, his ears perk forward and the corner of his lips curl upward into a smirk. “Oh, well now let us not get carried away then Clark. Come to think of it you make an excellent fairy, far better than the others I encountered.” He does his best feigned praise, smothering the paint with compliments and brushing away his own ridiculous display. “Now, tell me then, did you send them, who do they work for these fairies?”
Again, the tobiano wildly shook his head. This time though, the goal was not to rid himself of any mental confusion, but the more physical (and more unpleasant, in his view) spit of the other stallion. Unfortunately, the sticky liquid was also more difficult to remove, and with a huff of annoyance, Clark resigned himself to having a new mask of Kirin saliva. Lovely. What a great new fashion statement.
In doing so though, the paint stallion completely missed the realization that had come across Kirin’s face. For better or worse, his gaze returned only as the purple stallion began praising his fairy antics. The paint raised a brow at the question. Did Kirin think that Clark had control over these fairies? Clark stared blankly at the winged creature before him, blinking a time or two, before beginning to laugh heartedly.
“Never met a fairy in my life!” he admitted, far too eagerly.
Keeping his gaze fixated on Kirin, the paint began to prance in a circle around the winged shape. For a moment, he debated transforming the purple stallion into a purple fairy for good fun, but the initial remarks during their introduction shot back into his head. Perhaps not a good thing to irk this dude more, now that he seemed to be in a slightly better mood.
“I guess if can also do everything they can do, they tend to leave you alone.”
Probably not the wisest thing to admit either.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
keep you like an oath may nothing but death do us part
All of a sudden Kirin doesn’t seem to mind the way the other tosses his head around. Inwardly he thinks he looks ridiculous doing so, mane flapping about as it was, but outwardly he is beaming. He was especially pleased with himself at this moment, at this find, because as you know he would take credit for finding Clark and not the other way around. Selfish man as he is. Kirin’s probably grown far too accustomed at getting his way and who was he to even offer otherwise?
Maybe he could exact some kind of revenge on the fairies with the help of his new found friend. He takes a moment to brush the soft edges of his wing tips against Clark’s face, wiping away the mess like a Mother does her child. Oopsie daisy, he had gotten a bit carried away there leaving a mask of spittle against the lovely brown and white. “Let me just get this then,” is tongue juts out his mouth to the side, as though this takes deep concentration and skill. “Much better, much better,” complimenting his own handy work and shaking the wetness away from his lovely plumes as if it were a sticky booger. Gross.
Kirin does not like to be dirty, at all, but sometimes sacrifices were made- this was one of those times.
He doesn’t expect the laughter, was the paint so pleased at his clean up job? Was it somehow funny? He didn’t see the humor but if it was making so much progress he would endure this odd sense of it. “You..havn’t?” Oh, displeasing but still there is the fact of the matter at hand. The Magic, so surely there was some way he could help regardless if he’d never seen them. Kirin would be happy to point them out. The thistle colored man muses, thinking briefly in the diabolical way he did and of course he collected himself an idea within moments. “You can do what they do, well, that is terribly useful then. You know what, would you like to meet a fairy? I’m sure we could find one, I can point it out to you, would you like that? That would be fun right?”
Kirin’s own eagerness comes to plaster itself on his features, he thought this would be beyond all reason of fun.
“Of course they did hurt me so, and we’re friends right Clark, you and I? I can’t stand when my friends get hurt, can you?” Sow, plant, sow, plant, he had to find some way to get the idea in his goofy head.
Kirin
son of khaos
Idk what they gonna do, but kirin is a mischief making turd :| Clark is kind to put up with him
He grinned a big ole childish grin as the purple stallion brushed the saliva off his face. Had he been a less naïve stallion, he might have easily seen past the saccharine actions, but between his sheltered childhood and boyish adult life, he’d never been exposed to those with alternate agendas. Or, at least, none with agendas that concerned him.
Rather, he was quite appreciative of the cleaning as it was reminiscent of the gentle grooming his mother used to perform. “Thanks!” he responded happily, thoroughly enjoying the return of the light breeze on his clean, dry face.
The purple stallion then offers him an opportunity, but the paint finds himself growing skeptical. As curious as he typically was, he never found magic, whether his own or that of others, quite appealing. Perhaps it was due to having it all his life, or perhaps he was just a strange creature, but it baffled him why this stallion wanted to go seek out fairies.
“If you want to,” he began, trailing off. His brow furrowed at that moment. “You know how to find them?” he then asked curiously. To him, that was more intriguing than the fairies themselves.
But of course, Kirin continued, and the trusting paint had no trouble falling right into the hole. A vagabond his entire life, he rarely was able to keep the company of any more than a couple months. Thus, the word friend was a sure hook, line, and sinker. “Me either!” he responded with determination. He’d always enjoyed helping even strangers… who knew what he would do for a friend?
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
