"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
The longer she stayed the more she realized how strange this place was, and the more she was beginning to feel as though she didn’t belong. There were so many odd and beautiful colors, so many abilities and talents - nothing of which she seemed to possess.
Wondering if such things were natural or gifts, Breckin passed by the hoards slowly, openly gawking with a wide-eyed stare. She’s mildly cognisant, that these are all things she should be aware of, and all of these things she has more than likely seen before. But the place where those memories should be are vacant, and therein lied the problem and her apparent infatuation with staring down the neighboring horses with such feverish curiosity it made some wonder if something was wrong with her.
And most would never know the truth of it - that something was in fact off about her. And others might know; those whom she had known before as Breckin in another life. It was incredibly frustrating that some may know her better than she knew herself then, it made her skin flush and heartbeat quicken and thud against her shallow chest. But there was nothing she could do, nothing she could ask of anyone to fill in the gaps that Arthas could not because she had to protect the grey stallion.
She owed him that.
This last person she passed by, she couldn’t inhibit herself. Stopping a few paces away, she closed her eyes tightly and sighed heavily before rounding back to face them. It didn’t matter what they looked like - she didn’t care in that ugly lapse in manners to pay attention. All that mattered was that they looked as if they were living, breathing and had a voice.
“Is everyone touched by magic here?”
@[Squirt] yep, i'm running out of good starter mojo lol
Although Fiorina is not particularly interested in conversing with other horses, she acknowledges that she hasn’t spent much time around them. Her return to Beqanna has been… interesting. Certainly filled with interesting characters, and she’s discovered that she is mildly curious about them. So she has come to the meadow and found herself a spot beneath the shadow of a tree to just watch.
She had no intention of interacting today and she is mostly relaxed. Her instincts are far too honed to ever be completely off her guard. Part of her is watching the horse-creatures in the meadow, part is aware of the squirrel-snack in the tree above her.
Black eyes watch the spotted mare move past, and she is a little surprised to see her stop. Not, as others have, because of how strange Fiorina looks, but to ask a completely random question. As if it had been stewing in her mind for quite some time. If Fiorina had eyebrows, they most certainly would have raised up so high they could have high-fived the moon. She understood being lost in thought (well no, not really but she could pretend to understand) but that question made her grin a little bit. Just a small light in her black eyes and a tilt of her armoured head to regard the spotted mare.
The surprise on the other’s face is mirrored in an expression of subtle shock upon Breckin’s. Now that’ she was standing closer to the woman wrapped in shadows beneath the tree, and now that she was paying closer attention to who exactly she was inquiring, it seemed as though coincidence would have her asking the first armored being she’d ever laid eyes on. Cast in the darkness of the tree that harbored her, it had been hard to initially tell just how unique she was compared to the other oddities that littered the meadow.
“I…” the speckled vagabond began but faded into silence, taking a half a step backward to hold her companion in better viewing. Twisting her features into a soft mask of well-intended scrutiny, she took a moment to appreciate the armored lady. She was black as pitch with a muted shine, and Breckin’s dark eyes glimmered with curiosity, following a gleam of filtered light that danced across her plated shoulder, going beyond there to follow the well-defined lines from their beginning to their end. Unlike anything she’d ever laid claim to knowing before - that she could recall - she answers as truthfully as possible, “Honestly, I don’t know what you look like.” In a half-hearted attempt to deflect the awkwardness she suddenly felt from staring for so long, her shoulders rolled into a lazy shrug as the line of her mouth gently raised into a shy smile, “Maybe a little bored?”
Her gaze then flicked to the weaponized tail that had initially gone unnoticed, lingering there a moment longer before searching for her companion strange eyes again. Maybe she wasn’t exactly magical in absolute terms, but the lady was imposing in her own rights, and certainly didn’t belong entwined in the standards of your average equine. Perhaps just touched by magic in some aspect? Or a case of being more than what met the eye; magic she understood, could have an elusive and well hid nature to it. Regardless, there was an air of potential danger about her, a sense that had Breckin’s gut clench loosely in aching warning. And somehow in spite of the possible threat her unique companion could possess, she found her presence rather refreshing and, dare she even admit it to herself, alluring.
“Are you from here?” she asks, abandoning the question of magic altogether. And then as an afterthought, “I’m Roz.
Fiorina always appreciated a good once-over look and held her head a little higher. The deadly tail behind her relaxed and swished lazily along the surface of the ground as she gazed back at the speckled mare.
Then, at the mention of looking bored, she laughs - it’s quick and inelegant (more like a bark) but it’s genuine. “Almost always.” She says with a wicked grin, though lately it has not been true at all. She was actually a little surprised how much she had been enjoying interacting with the various shapes and sizes of equines that Beqanna had to offer. Who knew that the world outside of aliens and monsters was actually quite interesting. It was delightful to discover that not all monsters could be spotted with a single glance, and some were hidden within.
“Technically, though I know I don’t look it. If you wander near Pangea you'll see more that are a little like me.” Fiorina will save them both from the boring details of elaborating any further - about how her grandmother had been cursed and then next thing you know her descendants all look as though they would inhabit another planet. So, instead, she introduces herself - a small ghost of a smile in those black eyes. “I’m Fiorina.”
And, because she doesn’t care enough not to bluntly ask what was up this mare’s ass a few moments ago, she lets her own curiosity speak up. “So what’s got you all upset about magic there Roz?”
04-30-2020, 10:24 AM (This post was last modified: 04-30-2020, 10:32 AM by Breckin.)
In spite of her relatively icey facade, Breckin’s chill is welcomely warmed a degree when the armored woman laughs, enough so, that when she answers with anAlmost always, the weathered mare answers with a faint laugh of her own. It’s a strange feeling, one that almost felt foreign on the back of her throat, more like a cough - but all the same, she enjoys the brief moment of lightheartedness for what it was - simple and pure.
“Fiorina,” she says, attempting to commit the name and face to an already fragmented and fraying memory. Though this time - for the first time in a while - she was rather confident that she’d have a hard time forgetting someone like her for the foreseeable years to come.
Settling into a hovering at ease position, she regarded Fio thoughtfully, balancing just how much information she dared to divulge to a relative stranger. It couldn’t hurt to share the truth in this instance, even though it might sound like a speculative fabrication. But in reality, for all she knew and didn’t know, she was basing many things off of feelings and intuition, so for all intents and purposes, it truly was just plain old speculation.
“Would you believe me if I told you I don’t know?” she smiles again, sadder than before, and not quite enough to reach her dark eyes like it had a few moments ago. “I think it’s more an issue of misplaced irritability. I’ve got nothing against magic. I’ve just been feeling...misplaced as a whole in general. Have you ever felt like that?”
Unwilling to dawdle much longer on her rather poor state of being right now, she backpedals to something that was in her opinion, much more intriguing. “You said you were from Pangea? I’ve never been. Sounds like it might be worth a visit though. I certainly could use a distraction.” Resetting her position to fully alert, she takes a bold step closer towards the shadow cast woman, unable to bite back her trademark curiosity, “I hope this doesn’t come across as rude, but I can’t help but wonder, were you born this way? Or did you become beautifully deadly over time?”
The laughter her comment earns warms something in Fiorina's chest - as does the sound of her own name in the other mare's voice. It was pleasant and distracting - and a special sort of delight to have such an effect on someone else.
But the laughter does not last, for now, and so Fio allows the sad-eyed Roz to change the subject without further comment. She wonders what happened to the speckled mare to make her feel misplaced. It was not a feeling that Fio allowed herself to dwell on, though it had tried to raise its ugly head in her mind as a youth. She was, after all, perpetually misplaced. Half horse, half monster - with just enough of a mind to have emotions and fears the way the rest of her family simply was not capable of. She knew she was a monster, a creature to be feared, and it had taken some time to get used to the look in the eyes of other horses when she approached. As if they were prey.
Now, however, she had no fucks left to give. If someone thought her a mindless brute and purposefully avoided her, she felt no loss. She had grown comfortable with herself to the point of overconfidence, perhaps, but it was better than being fearful.
Fiorina grins wickedly at the compliment, forgetting all else. It’s always a delight to hear someone else call her beautiful - it is a fact that she knows well enough but it being stated out loud by someone with their own delightful edge is a pleasure. “Born beautiful, but the deadly part took some practice.” She takes a step closer, mirroring the one Roz took, her black eyes still shining with that wicked smile - but though she itches to stand as close as she can to the mare - she moves instead to circle her.
That tail of hers curls behind her, filling the space between them as Fiorina moves in a C around Roz. She’s careful to watch for signs of fear, and then she would stop, but if there are none that tail would caress the spotted sides of this mare with it’s duller edge - a light and practiced touch.
A caress.
“So. How much of a distraction are you looking for, dear Roz? We can go find my family in Pangea, if you wish, or is there something I can personally help you with?” Fio pauses close to her original position, if a little closer, still with that grin - a sharp hunter's edge to it now but she is hunting something other than flesh to fill her stomach.
Breckin’s head lowered thoughtfully, with a hint of embarrassment flushing her pale cheeks. It seemed like a remarkably silly question now that she had said it aloud. Of course at some point, the feeling of misplacement probably occurred to the majority, but perhaps it was the degree in which it was felt that was the difference or for how long the ugly thought lingered. Eventually she might find means to overcome the ultimately useless feeling, but for the time being it was what made the first steps out of Taiga easier and what fanned the flame in her search for answers.
The armored lady grins. Breckin returns it with her own humbled twist.
Fio reflects her own bold step forward. And the speckled mare dares one more closer.
Dark eyes began to follow Fio as she moved, her expression retaining a deeper curiosity at the sudden bend and sway of the other woman’s migration. The feeling of predator assessing prey grew heavy in the air and set her mind on a precarious, thrilling edge. An unwelcome fragment of fear slithered in, making her stomach clench and roll - a fear of uncertainty above anything else, but it does not drive her to shy away from the approach or the deadly tail sweeping towards. But the gentle brush of the dagger-like tail along her delicate barrel is unexpected - and surprisingly welcomed. The path it travelled - dull and smooth against the grain of her coat - drew a shivering line of provocation behind it; a sensation still doomed to burn even after she’d long since pulled away.
It was the kindest touch she could remember, the only touch she could remember, and it left her feeling hollow and hungry. The leopard mare, now breathless and vexed, is left to imagining how the sharp edge of that same touch would feel running dangerously against her skin.
Where Fiorina stalls to keep a humble distance, Breckin pushes into the boundaries - smothering the empty space that is still laid between them. For a time she stood motionless, hovering in the throes of a split decision.
“Pangea will be there tomorrow,” she murmured, insinuation dawning brightly on the upturned corners of her mouth.
It would be logical for the other mare to feel a little bit of fear as the distance between them closes. And it is true that Fiorina feels a hunger for flesh, wants to devour this spotted mare, but not with violence.
Well, maybe the act could be a little violent.
This appetite is relatively new for the armoured mare, and it still something of a novelty. She did not remember if she always had the capacity to feel the fire spreading throughout her entire body at someone else’s gaze or words - perhaps it was a part of her that needed more time than usual to mature into being. First with the dappled Larva but though that had been fun, it felt just a little different than whatever this is. She’s not sure whether Roz is going to use her as a distraction and then discard her - if she did, Fiorina thinks she would heal from that quickly. But already she is hoping this flirtation is the first of many.
It delights Fiorina that her advances are not scorned, that she can see the same spark of desire she feels mirrored in those warm brown eyes looking back at her. Had anyone ever satisfied a flushed craving or need in Roz before? Fiorina rather doubted it, looking at her now, and thinks she can change that. There was no one quite like this armoured mare, after all.
The distance between them begins to vanish and the murmured words are all Fiorina needs to cause it to disappear entirely. “I will never hurt you, Roz.” Her voice is rough and low as her muzzle traces a line across spotted skin. And then she nips lightly at the skin of Roz’s neck, just light enough for her teeth to tug slightly at the skin but not enough to break it. “Not unless you ask me to.”
