"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
All that I need is for you to be bleeding, From my homicidal kiss
The nightmare hadn't taken long to decide where she wanted to go, Librette was the kind of woman she could fight beside in battle. Perhaps Tarnish would come as well, that'd be interesting. Massive hooves leave a pockmarked trail as she makes her way towards the Valley, midnight hide blending in with the shadows as she moved, their cool caress a most welcome sensation. Dark eyes scanned the terrain before her, nostrils fluttering as she inhaled deeply of the scents that greeted her. Hmm, blood and fear and evil. She could like this place, perhaps the stallion here wasn't as bad as some she'd "served". The gentle, nice ones bored her and made her a little testy.
The darkness felt good to Alptraum, it felt like home as she entered the land of the unknown. She wasn't apprehensive per se, just cautious. A lifetime of battle tends to do that, though she didn't think there'd be anyone here she'd have to fear. The only person she'd ever feared was Morgenstern, because he held her black heart in his hands. Ah the lovely pain he could make her feel, and the kind she'd return to him were a euphoria all their own. He was responsible for minuscule scars along her neck and shoulders, and she had marked him as hers in the same way, love bites hard enough to draw the iron tang of blood and leave their history behind.
Once well within the confines of the Valley, she stopped and inhaled deeply. Ah, the air was alive with malice and she loved it. Throwing her head back she let loose a scream from the depths of her lungs, why not announce to the denizens she was here. It was not as if they could miss the hulking shape of the nightmare, though her coat did tend to blend itself in to the night. Pawing the earth beneath her with one massive hoof, she waited for any who would come. It had been too long since she had interacted with others, perhaps she still could manage it.
Alptraum Mare 10 years Black (Ee/aa) Percheron x Friesian 18 hands No Consort, The Valley, No Hellspawn Sael
You see, I'm not like those other girls, baby I'm your bloody creature poster girl
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.
Librette is doing her customary thing, border guarding as she usually does. Alptraum has her pegged completely correctly: she is a thing built for battle, a warrior to the core. And what does the warrior do without the war? Why, she patrols the kingdom. Not that she needs to; their magician-king, Eight, has the entire place wrapped in a gentle cocoon of his magic. As soon as someone crosses the borders, he knows, and she knows he knows. But she does it all the same.
She smells Alp the moment that the woman crosses the border into the Valley. Librette is glad she's come; the world could use more warrior-women. The Valley has seemed a bit of a boys' club of late. Not that those boys were anything she couldn't handle – awkward encounters with Covet notwithstanding. In a straight up fight she could easily take any of them. In a battle of words, well, the awkward girl ended up knocked up.
Librette is already walking toward her new fellow kingdom-dweller when Alp lets out her cry. Her ears flicker, but she doesn't hesitate or stop. Her hawk-wings are folded at her sides, her chestnut hide dark in the night and the shadows. She is careful to make some noise, enough that she wouldn't startle the other woman or seem to be creeping up. Dipping her head, she nods to Alp. "Alptraum." she greets flatly. It is not unfriendly, she just isn't much of one for social graces.
"You found your way. I'm glad you're here." for her, that's really pretty loquacious. Her skill is on the battlefield, not in diplomacy. She pulls it out when she must, forcing herself into it when the good of the Valley is on the line, pulling it out painfully from a place that doesn't really exist deep within her. She had been serviceable at it when she had ruled here. She had been serviceable at it when she had been with Magnus, in the Dale, so long ago. But now, when all that's at stake is a little bit of humiliation for her? Oh hardly.
Flicking her tail across her unremarkable haunches, she takes a moment to scan the land around them. The Valley spills out beneath them, a relatively barren thing dotted with trees and foliage. The ground is still somewhat choppy from the earthquakes that had ravaged it almost three years before, but the kingdom is beginning to heal. It will always bounce back, just as it had made her bounce back too when it suited her needs. The land itself is craggy, filled with caves and other shadowed places, made even more menacing at night.
But for all its menace, for all its darkness, it has an incredible beauty to it as well. Librette saw it immediately upon her first visit here, and it's stayed with her ever since. It is a lovely thing, a powerful thing, and it means that the land tends not to release you once it gets its claws into you.
She looks to Alp, her unremarkable brown eyes searching the taller woman's. Their height difference is almost comical, Librette a typical Azteca 15.2 hands to Alp's 18. "So, what do you think?"
All that I need is for you to be bleeding, From my homicidal kiss
The wind shifted and brought her the scent of Librette and with it came a faint smile. The mare was one she could respect, and that was the reason she was here. Dipping her head in greeting to the other mare, she spoke into the night.
Librette. I am also pleased I decided upon here, and it is definitely beautiful. What would be my place here amongst those in the Valley? I smell males, moreso than females. I'm not much for diplomacy but war, war I am very good at.
Dark eyes scan the Valley once more, drawing in a breath of the air that didn't carry the taint of pureness to it that some places reeked of. She could feel the stares and shivers of some of the "nicer" girls when she was in a common area. It brought her joy to know that they loathed and feared the sight of her scarred hide. Turning to look down at Librette, one side of her lips quirk up into a half smile.
I think I could learn to like it here very well, at least my scarred hide here won't make me anathema here as it did in places where only ones looks mattered. Who is the ruler here?
She falls silent as she looks out over the Valley, mangled ear trained on Librette as her eyes search what she can see. Shifting her massive hooves into a more comfortable position, she awaits a reply, tail lashing gently against her sides.
Alptraum Mare 10 years Black (Ee/aa) Percheron x Friesian 18 hands No Consort, The Valley, No Hellspawn Sael
You see, I'm not like those other girls, baby I'm your bloody creature poster girl
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.
She chuckles. "I'm no diplomat either." she glances over to Alp, her unremarkable brown eyes catching the much larger mare's gaze. "The Valley has two different castes, one of fighters, and one of diplomats. I'm in both, mostly because we always need both. I'm not really…very good with words." she says the last part almost sheepishly, as though embarrassed. And really, she has every right to be embarrassed, because she's ruled the kingdom and yet remains pretty terrible at being a diplomat. She should know what to say, how to speak, how to flatter – and still, after all this time, when it comes to talking by far her best words are her hooves and her teeth. "You'd be welcome in the war caste." she says, knowing it's true. She might not be the General, but she's been one in the past, and she knows that new recruits are always welcome.
Alp speaks again, mentioning her scars and kingdoms where looks matter and then asks about the king. Librette smiles again, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "The Valley is all about actions." she says, her voice flat with truth. "We don't really care what you look like. It's all about what you do." She flicks her tail across her unremarkable haunches, shifting her wings against her sides. "I mean, look at me, I'm far from beautiful and I've done…a lot of things here in the Valley." she's too shy to boast of her achievements, many though they may be. She's held every rank of note here with the exception of head of the diplomats.
Because no horse in their right mind would ever make Librette head of any diplomats, anywhere, at any time.
"Our king is Eight." she says, her voice flat. She doesn't mention that he's been absent of late, although she doesn't doubt that Alptraum will notice if she stays long enough. It's not entirely unsurprising; he is a magician, and magicians are known for wandering. She simply hopes that he will be here when they need him, that he'll return when it counts. "He's a magician." she explains to Alp. "He has magic the same way I have my wings."
She is silent for a moment. "Was there anything like that, where you came from?" she looks to the much taller woman. "Wings and magic, that kind of thing?"
