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RE: n e v e r w h e r e - Neverwhere - 08-02-2019
So that’s convenient.
Nothing happens for a moment, only silence and soft breathing, two mares face-to-face, and neither entirely convinced that they have much to gain from the other, but seemingly trapped in their conversation despite neither necessarily being bastions of polite society. The air is cool between them, and then, one of them blinks. Neverwhere blinks, several times, the mottled pink skin around her eyes creasing. She actually can see better, for the time. A least, she can clearly see the roan’s face, the contrast of blaze and black and eyes bright as the skies that linger far in her memory. And, as quickly as it comes clear, it changes, a ripple of nothing and what it was is no longer. Instead of the dish and delicate bone structure, there is another face, skin bubbled and scarred, mostly around the eyes and nostrils, it flushes when the sun lays too heavily on it and Neverwhere knows that rush of warmth, the sting in the eyelids. She wonders if Heartfire has transformed herself, if she feels the tightness where the scar tissue has degraded the skin’s elasticity. Or has she only created this image in the silver mare’s mind – perhaps it is somewhere in-between. Despite her doubts that what she sees is a physical change, she steps forward, no hesitation, no whisper of hooves, she closes the small gap between them abruptly and reaches out to touch the once-flat space between her knotted nostrils to the pink-red-white chapped skin on the side of Heartfire’s - on the side of her own - face.
Neverwhere reaches out only to touch and, curiousity satisfied draws back and turns her gaze back to the now bald-faced roan mare. And then, drily, but without bitterness, she wonders what she has agreed to for this bit of trickery.
“That looks ridiciulous on you. Can I have it back now?” It is her face, after all, and she’d prefer to keep it, ruined as it is.
RE: n e v e r w h e r e - Heartfire - 08-09-2019
She's got the devil's eyes
For all that she can so accurately deceive the eye, regrettably her abilities extend no further than visual befuddlement. Beneath the illusion she had so carefully woven, the contours of her own face remain the same. A fact the woman could no doubt feel when she reaches out with hesitant curiosity to touch the perfect reflection of her own features.
It doesn’t take long for Neverwhere to request it’s return however. Heartfire nearly smiles behind the illusion, though her lips don’t quite move. With only a faint lilt to her voice, she replies in an offhand tone, “No more ridiculous than it does on you.” There is the barest thread of amusement there, something to say she is not entirely frigid after all. “Nevertheless, it never truly left you.”
Slowly, the illusion fades, leaving behind the rather plain, ordinary features of the roan queen. She does not return her sight entirely to normal, however, leaving her with the clarity and sharpness of normal equine vision. Whether she would keep it remains to be seen, but for now Heartfire leaves her with that one small gift.
Still, it’s true this little experiment had been more than a passing diversion. Perhaps the woman before has trouble minding her tongue, but Heartfire is hardly one to judge such things. As it is, Neverwhere had left the mottled blue mare intrigued. An intrigued Heartfire is many things, but easily dismissed is not one of them.
Tilting her head slightly, she eyes her companion for a moment. When she continues, it is somewhat abruptly, but not in an entirely unfriendly manner. “Join me for a walk,” she says, the words more of a demand than a request. Of course, the mare could refuse. Heartfire is not inclined to press the issue. After all, there’s nothing that truly holds her here in the end. Still, she strongly doubts Neverwhere has more pressing or intriguing prospects lurking in the bushes. And Heartfire rather feels their acquaintanceship might benefit from further exploration. “I’m guessing it’s been some time since you’ve been able to see some of the more spectacular sights,” she continues, a faint gleam kindling in the deep blue of her eye. “And I know some you might enjoy.”
and they'll cut you like a weapon
RE: n e v e r w h e r e - Neverwhere - 08-10-2019
Surely, her face probably is ridiculous, but you grow accustomed to the things that are yours, even when the only time you see them is while dipping your head to drink from still water.
Neverwhere is attached to her face.
“Agree to disagree on that,” the mare says, drawing back another pace as the illusion fades, “but I think it suits me.”
Ridiculous. Maybe sometimes, maybe most of the time. Certainly right now, for though Heartfire wears her own unmarred face once again, the trick with her eyes has continued. She can see everything and it is distracting. Birds flitting from tree to tree overhead cause her to flinch, unused to seeing them flicker in and out of her vision so tack-sharp. The usual dark edges and faded spots gone, she looks around her for a moment like a foal opening its eyes for the first time on the world. With effort, she tears her gaze from the Everything that surrounds them and focuses their red-rimmed gaze onto Heartfire, grounding herself. This was not something she had seen coming, after all of it, that after years of living with shadows and glare, she would be jumping at them instead.
In the end, it was never seeing flies all over that would impress Neverwhere enough to draw her out from her well-practiced reclusivness, it was simply letting her see. It was such a simple thing.
She is barely listening when Heartfire invites her for a walk, and is caught half-unawares, forced to catch up with a few quick steps, falling in beside the black-and-silver mare with an obedience that surprises her. It’s the distraction of individual grass blades, of sparrows hopping and scratching in the dirt. A rabbit sits besides a stone and she knows simply by seeing that they are different.
"It's... been a long time." the chocolate brown mare agrees. She couldn’t say how long it has been. Once, there was a time she saw clearly, but the ruin had come on in small increments, slipping over her eyes like the gossamer threads of a spider’s web. She had not really noticed it happening.
Now, she notices everything, but it's harder to be snide and suspicious when you are staring at rabbits.
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
RE: n e v e r w h e r e - Heartfire - 08-14-2019
She's got the devil's eyes
For all that Heartfire has little interest in the finer points of polite conversation, she does still have a way with words. As she’d often found, it is rarely the eloquence of a sentence or pontifications of politeness that win favor, but rather a carefully precise application of them. After all, diplomacy and influence are not actually synonymous.
In almost infinitesimal degrees, Neverwhere seems to be warming up to her, her replies slightly less grating now, lacking the bite they had before. Her lips twitch at her disagreeable statement, easily seeing the lack of heat behind it. “If you mean rough around the edges,” she responds rather blandly, “then I must agree.”
One could almost actually believe the chilly queen of the north has a sense of humor after all.
She watches her companion almost idly, surveying her response to the rather drastic changes that had occurred in her life in such a short span of time. She finds it rather fascinating, that study. Being able to watch, with her own eyes, the cause and effect of such a simple yet profoundly life-altering action. One might almost even consider it clinical, were it not for the faint thread of pleased satisfaction she can’t quite seem to suppress.
Though Heartfire had not made it a request, Neverwhere could have easily refused such an invitation. That she does not speaks volumes. Indeed, she’s quick enough to follow, despite her distraction, when Heartfire turns to begin her journey anew. Neverwhere is understandably preoccupied by the sights around them, rediscovering things no doubt long forgotten in the absence of clear vision. Heartfire does not begrudge her the distraction, instead remaining silent as her companion peers almost eagerly around them. She might have told the woman exactly how long it has been since she’d seen so clearly, had she the inclination. Of course, it likely doesn’t occur to Neverwhere to actually ask either.
But then, it’s not natural to assume, even with partial knowledge of her abilities, that she could see everything one has seen before.
After a brief span of silence, Neverwhere seems to recall herself enough to ask where they are going. Heartfire’s gaze returns to her, something akin to amusement glinting briefly across the blue of her eyes. “Nerine,” she replies simply. A kingdom filled with magnificent views. “With perhaps a few detours on the way.”
Heartfire may be biased, but she can admit there are some lovely sights along the way.
and they'll cut you like a weapon
RE: n e v e r w h e r e - Neverwhere - 08-17-2019
She wants to see everything. She had left that desire in the mud many miles ago, she thought it was forgotten, abandoned, impossible, but now, now Neverwhere knows that it has always been within her. Waiting. But it is also magic, the mare beside her is magic, and in her chest, a jarring anxiety grows. She had thought she would keep free of these entanglements, and at the first opportunity, she grasped at it with barely a second thought. Where does this grasping for power end? Does she become a slave to it, always seeking more, always striving and clawing, drowning in a sea of horses each trying to be something more and something better than what they are? Her scowl deepens a moment, wet teeth glistening beneath gnarled lips before being hidden again behind a firm line. The ash-brown mare grounds herself with a breath that rattles in her nostrils and gains control again of her steps.
They still mirror the roan’s.
“Nerine.” A single word, dripped from her straight-pressed lips. She knows nothing of the land, only that it is one of the kingdoms of Beqanna, and it is, perhaps, as good a place as any for her to go to. At least, for a time. The journey will take them through many parts of the continent, and that alone is enough to sing to her Nomad’s heart. That she knows nothing about it does not concern her overly much, she has known nothing of many of the places she has gone and, if even there she cannot find roots, it will also be nothing to her to keep moving.
And yet, this is the price of her eyesight restored? To go to Nerine, and then, what, become a prisoner of magic and vision? It may be that she is better off blind than caught like a silver fish in an eagle’s claw. It seems so little and so unlikely, that all this has been manufactured simply to offer a home to a wayward wanderer. Neverwhere is curious, and she is suspicious, finding herself no more trusting of Heartfire than she was before.
“Nerine, then, Fly-Girl,” she says, her careless tone returning, casting an appraising, greedy, glance in the other mare’s direction. Nerine, and all the sights between. She can’t help it, she is eager to see them, to collect those sights like a dragon’s hoard.