and some by virtue fall; any

[Kushiel]

((OOC: To set the stage, Kushiel was transported here by Yael. He was participating in the Gate's raid, and was in the middle of burning the mother tree to the ground when Yael stepped in.))

Kushiel couldn’t help the shout that ripped from his throat. One moment, he was in the Gates, doing his damnedest to burn it to the ground, and the next he was tumbling towards the desert sand. He landed on his back in a heap and struggled ungracefully to his feet.

The large stallion shook violently, sending sand flying from his flapping mane. Straia’s fire raven bobbed and dipped around him. With a groan he looked at the bird.

“You’d better tell her what happened.” He didn’t need to define who, “her” was. There was only one her as far as the bird was concerned. Straia. Kushiel sighed and watched the raven fly off until it was nothing but a speck in the sky.

Then, and only then, did Kushiel take time to consider his surroundings. Where was he? Well, that was obvious enough. No other place was this blasted hot and sandy. The Deserts. Perfect, just perfect.

Kushiel groaned dramatically and threw his head back. Seriously, did it have to be the Deserts?

Without wasting much time, he began to look for the way out. The only problem was he couldn’t really get his barring. He had just been transported through space by a magician. It was a little disorienting.

And man was it hot.

He was already sweating, and the great plumes of fire in his mane was doing nothing to help. He wasn’t willing to give it up, however. Without Straia’s raven he would be hard pressed to find a light. No, it was better that he sweat a little.

Staggering like he was drunk, Kushiel weaved and tottered towards the oasis. He would drink first, and then he would get the hell out of dodge.

[Shahrizai]

All things are possible, even the worst of things.

Some days he feels as though he is drowning in grief. (which is ironic, considering he has chosen to make his home in a desert). Other days he feels as though nothing that had happened could be true. His mother and father could not possibly be dead. They had been too alive, too vibrant, to die. But they had. If he were feeling logical, he would point out to himself that he could always find a horse willing to connect him to the afterlife so that he might speak with them (his very own sister, for instance). But unfortunately he is not feeling particularly logical.

And then there is Valkerine. He could badly use her comfort right now, but she seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet. No one had seen nor heard from her in months. He knows she would never have willingly left the Amazons, which means something terrible had happened to her. And that renews his grief all the more. It’s a never-ending vicious circle, one leading right back to the other.

Just when there is some concern he might actually become a part of the sands, a horse falls out of the sky. Literally. He falls to the dunes, causing a plume of sand to spray into the air. Shahrizai jerks his head up, watery gaze widening in surprise. He’s not surprised that a stallion has simply appeared in the Deserts (he lives in a land rife with magicians, and if he had to guess, he would say Cam had something to do this. Little does he realize how wrong that assumption would be). Rather, he is simply startled at the sudden appearance of the fellow.

He debates for a moment whether he should or should not simply ignore the man. Ultimately, manners win out. He should at least find out if the gray stallion had been injured by his fall. Not that he could do much about it if he was. But it’s polite to at least check.

By the time he reaches the newcomer, he has already managed to regain his feet and shake most of the sand from his pale coat. Well, at least he’s not injured. And since he’s already here, it would be pretty rude not to introduce himself.

The stallion has eyes only for the oasis. But then, the Desert has a way of making one thirsty. The gray stallion is staggering about like a drunkard (and he would know, he’d met a drunkard before. Even managed to get drunk with him). Shahrizai falls in step beside him, prepared to at least offer a shoulder if he should fall. He eyes the stallion’s flaming mane for a moment, but fortunately Cam had yet to remove the protective diamond shell covering his entire body (largely unnoticeable unless one looked closely), so he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t actually get burned.

Hey. You’ve uh, you’ve got a bit of fire. In your hair and whatnot.

Captain Obvious has arrived.

I’m Shahrizai, by the way. Or Shah, if you prefer.

shahrizai

hestoni x scorch

[Kushiel]

Kushiel felt like he had been chewed up and spat out. Traveling through space and potentially time could do that to you. He opened and closed his mouth, not enjoying the stickiness of his thirst or the ominous popping of his jaw.

Magicians were real bastards. Kushiel already suspected that was the case, but this proved it. If he didn’t value his life so highly, he would have had a serious hoof in face conversation with the meddlesome toad who thought this was acceptable behavior.

If Kushiel wasn’t in such a sour mood, he might have chuckled at the irony of it. He had been sent to the desert. There was no way you could burn down the desert. Additionally, it was already too hot for comfort, so all his beloved flame did was give him a headache.

Touche magician, touche.

He was still staggering forward when the helpful stallion approached. Kushiel gave him a wary look, as if he didn’t trust his motivations, then shrugged and dumped most of his weight on the other man’s shoulder. Hell, if he was going to hover he might as well be useful. Kushiel grunted in acknowledgement.

“If you’re saying I’m hot you’re going to have to get in line.” He said this in a very flat, gruff tone. It was both unnecessarily hostile and a lie. There was no line for Kushiel. Not only was he open 24/7 and a full service establishment, but he was also abrasive enough to scare just about everyone.

Kushiel couldn’t muster up any further conversation until they reached the oasis. He drank greedily and felt some of his good humor returning. After several minutes of slurping he looked back up at Shahrizai.

“Shah it is. I’m Kushiel. I’m assuming this forsaken place is the Deserts?” He looked around and instantly felt foolish. What else could it be? It certainly wasn’t the Tundra. Suddenly, Kushiel wished he had paid a lot more attention when the other kingdoms were visiting. How much trouble was he in, exactly? Were the Deserts and the Chamber on good terms? Did they despise each other with the fire of a thousand suns? There was no way to know.

[Shahrizai]

All things are possible, even the worst of things.

He is most fortunate in that he has no idea what it is like to be on a magician’s bad side. He had always made it a point to be either unnoticed or liked the magical folk (case in point, Camrynn. She apparently liked him well enough to give him some protective armor). This man however, seemed to have gotten some magician quite riled (he’s still pretty sure it would be Cam behind this one as well – this just strikes him as something she might do. And still he’d be wrong). He wonders what he could possibly have done to piss someone off so badly.

The gray stallion is not shy about throwing his weight on Shah’s shoulder. Fortunately he is a rather strapping fellow, so he only stumbles a little when the weight falls against him. The stranger is also quick to respond to his facetious comment with an acerbic quip of his own. Shahrizai bursts into laughter at the man’s repartee. Apparently he has some wit, even after conking his head on the sands.

I’ve gotta say, you’re a little lukewarm.

Grinning, he tosses a wink in the stallion’s direction for good measure. Once they reach the clear pool, the stranger takes a long drink before returning to their conversation. He finally learns the man’s name – Kushiel. As he makes his next quip, the pewter stallion’s eyebrow quirks slightly as he snorts in amusement.

You’ve guessed correctly. We hide it well, don’t you think?

At that moment, Gumby decides to make an appearance. The half-lion, half-man creatures comes bounding up to them, barking and snarling like a rabid dog. His ire seems to be directed at Kushiel. Shahrizai’s eyes widen in alarm as the sphinx settles next him, growling low in his throat, eyes fixed upon the newcomer.

Gumby! What the hell’s the matter with you?

Of course the creature doesn’t reply. Instead he stares at the gray stallion, hackles raised as he continues to growl ominously.

shahrizai

hestoni x scorch

Ok, so Gumby is the Deserts magical protector (created by Cam). Basically he's one badass mofo who is actually a sphinx but acts like a dog.

[Kushiel]

Kushiel looked over at Shahrizai skeptically. A little lukewarm, huh? He didn’t think so. Not even from a dude would Kushiel buy that. Unless he turned back around and saw a group of ladies he hadn’t seen before bathing in the oasis, the other man would just have to take what he could get.

“Even after what I’ve been through, I’m Grade A meat, buddy.” If pressed, Kushiel would be completely unable to explain why he felt the need to demand nothing less than admiration from a man he’d never met, and would likely not see again anytime soon. It was just who he was. Boasting was as reflexive as breathing. 

He was, however, pacified by the wink. At least he was making some attempt to humor him. That’s all Kushiel really required. A good sport. He nodded briskly and went back to surveying his surroundings. It really was rather…dry here. Now, Kushiel had no problem with dry, it was a lot better than wet (nothing burned when wet) but this was overdoing it a little.

“So, was all the fertile land taken or is all the sand a metaphor? Does it represent the cleansing of your soul or something equally ridiculous? Some kind of ritualistic thing, perhaps?” Clearly, Kushiel didn’t understand the meaning of a desert. Why did beach sand feel so relaxing while this sand felt like miles and miles of punishment?

Kushiel squinted at Shahrizai, again skeptically, and tried to discern if he was hiding something from him. A forest grove perhaps? Unfortunately, it turned out the other man was hiding something from him. Except that thing was even more unpleasant than the sand. Kushiel saw the man dog beast charge at him and made an alarmed noise. Some might have called it a scream, but Kushiel would have described it as a manly bellow. The beast ran right up to his ankles and the stallion danced back, spraying sand and cursing. 


“God, what is that thing? It’s awful.” Again, his voice wasn’t supposed to come out as high and shrieky as it did, and he would have preferred husky. In his time in the Chamber, Kushiel had gotten used to strange things. An eternally burning tree? no problem. A beating heart beneath the earth? Why not? This dog however, was not really his cup of tea. He had, after all, signed up to be a diplomat. He thought that was a job that required a lot of talking, not a lot of listening, and all the grandstanding he could muster. He didn’t except to have to actually confront things. 

“Can you make it, Gumbo, go away?” Gumby, however, seemed to have no intention of leaving. He growled ferociously even as Kushiel made the request, and the stallion shook his front foot experimentally at the dog to see if it could be intimated.

Gumby was not, and took a bite at Kushiel’s fetlock. 
 

[Wichita]

FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES
CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES

Good gracious lord almighty, had they walked forever? She was beginning to think they had, but she would not have stopped, her babies were here somewhere. She was also afraid that if she stopped, she may not continue on, might turn around and do something stupid. Tioga would have not allowed that to happen, the girl had already made her point by shoving her swollen Dam when she had made to head back. In the end, her eldest was right, there was nothing they could do for them. On they went, Wichita struggling against her swollen barrel, but finally they had reached the sands. They hadn't stopped, not even at the borders, rude she knows but they had spotted an oasis and they sure were thirsty. One thing about a dark coat in the desert heat, it felt like she was in an oven. That made her laugh, an oven, and she was with child. A literal bun in the oven!

Maybe the heat was starting to get to her, they had not stopped the whole way, not even to rest their eyes. Tioga had looked on straight ahead, urging her mother, and Wichita complied. Surely the children had made it, surely they were okay.

Reaching the waters she does not hesitate to climb in, sinking her two forelegs in as she took long drafts of its coolness. If she had been less sun-baked perhaps she would notice sooner the two males, one of whom was that winky, no-tail, sassy pants she had met in the field. Notice she did not, instead her legs buckled as the first set of contractions clawed at her belly. Gods no, not here. Despite her pleas, nature strayed course for no one.

[Tioga]

And echoed in the wells, of Silence

It should not have been a long trip, it should have been a breeze. What was I thinking? My Mother was involved, nothing was ever easy when she was a part of it. My tongue is like sandpaper, literally. How much had a swallowed? It was everywhere, my mouth, my eyes, creases of my body I will not mention. I've never been here before, not inside. I've never crossed the borders as we do now, but I've looked on the lands from afar. They've never much peaked my interest before, and now I know that there is good reason. It is awful here.

I can't take it any longer, I need water, I need it now. As if some force is answering my prayers I can see it, the blurred images of an oasis ahead. I turn to my Mother to point it out but she is already rushing for it, clambering across the dunes and splashing into the water. I don't need her to tell me once, let alone twice, I plod in after her sighing as the cool liquid caresses my skin. Even deeper do I sink as I dip my muzzle to the waters and fill my empty stomach. I might get sick, but I don't much care at this point.

Finally I take a moment to breathe, to allow my lungs to expand again. As much as my body ached for water, my lungs cried louder for air, such a strange thing the body is. My chest rapidly rises and falls, I take a look around spying the figures of two males. How how we missed them before? Was I not only deaf but blind as well? My belly turns at the thought, but I must smother it- we've trespassed, Mother's in no condition to defend us. Wrong as we are.

One of them, he reeks of fire, of the Chamber. My eyes take on the color of molten metal, blazing with a copper fire of their own. "You!" I did not see him involved, but it doesn't matter, I know where the others had come from. Led by Gryffen, they could have come from no where else. I rush him, forgetting myself, where we are what we are doing here. Before I reach him though I faintly hear my Dam cry, groan, what the...? My head whips back to her, my eyes widening as I realize what is happening. Here? Oh Gods, no, not here.

And then it happens. My ears pop painfully, the sounds of the world gone, silence finally taking its hold.

Tioga

Khaos x Wichita

[Rucker]

He is born into a world of silence, tumbling from the womb in perfect stillness.

The boy does not even know he lacks sound. All of his forming days have been quiet ones, with only the steady thrum-thrumming vibration of his mother's heart against his body. He notices what he is missing with a squealing protest. Warmth, lost in his journey into the world. A full stomach, no longer constantly supplied by the cord that has always held him to his mother. Touch, something he discovers instantly that he dislikes being without.

He is perfectly formed, a black colt with a white blaze and three white socks. His eyes are a rich shade of blue, unfocused and seeking his mother's face. The ears, the ones that will be of no use to him, are flat against his head.

He shivers, steam from the caul rising off of him, leaving behind a chill. Desperate for touch he staggers to his feet and takes his first shaky steps, his tail wagging as he lunges forward and snuggles the first warm body he can find.

ooc: whoever wants to can say Rucker pushed up against them. ;-) Feel free to play him a bit if you need or want to.

[Yael]

Ok. Things are starting to get a little ridiculous over here. Yael was perfectly happy to let Shah (whom she’s only met briefly, but is immensely thankful for his activity) take care of the Chamberling she’d deposited in the depths of the desert (secretly, slyly; they’re bound to find out eventually, but with no harm to the stallion, they have no true quarrel with her). The golden magician keeps a watchful third eye over them whilst tending to the Gates’ children, and is in the middle of getting ready to take them home when her own grandson’s mother practically falls on her doorstep.

Now, it seems like getting involved is unavoidable. Yael tells the children to stay put and that she’ll be back soon, and then disappears from their little group, only to appear moments later on the outskirts of the other group crowded around one of the oases. She would have to clean up her own shenanigans.

With a pause and a nod to Shah, the Ambassador and Guardian of the Desert watches their Sphinx-dog try to gnaw on the Chamberling’s fetlock and is instantly amused. After a moment, she calls silently to Gumby (Good boy, Gumby! Good boy! Now come to me…)  and gets him off of Kushiel’s case. For now. And then she turns her normally very sweet, cinnamon brown eyes towards the stallion and they darken to black. “I am ze Ambassador and Guardian of ze Desert. Please explain to Shahrizai vat you are doing xere, so t’at ve can feegure out vhat to do vit you. I vill be back een a moment.”

Leave the men to follow her instructions, Yael moves towards her grandson and witnesses his first steps, covering the unsteady boy in her large, golden wings when he tumbles against her legs. In a very matronly way, she cranes her neck down to nuzzle his forehead and in between his tiny ears, letting a bit of her magic flow on to him. She will not restore his hearing, but he can be forever marked as one of her descendants, with a few streaks of gold in his mane. No matter how long he lives, even if the rest of him turns gray with age, he will have those metallic strands interwoven with black ones. Unless he wants her to remove them later in life, of course.

Yael looks up at his mother and half sister and smiles warmly, thinking that she ought to give an explanation. “Xe ees my grandson, and xe ees deaf. Tell me xis name, Vichita, and I vill say eet een xis mind.”

Yael, guardian of the desert

[as always, if you don't want the gold, let me know and I'll edit the post!]

[Kushiel]

To say things were getting a little out of hand would be an understatement. He’d been fine with just Shah. Sure, the lies between them were a little awkward. But, Kushiel was okay with that. He would get the hell out of dodge and no one would be the wiser. Perhaps, one day, Shahrizai would realize who he was, but, on that day, Kushiel would make sure to be in the Chamber.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?

Anyways, that was until the Gates refugees started filtering in. He didn’t recognize Wichita at first. She just seemed like a normal, birthing mare. They tended to do that, mares, if left alone for too long. Give birth that is. Kushiel, having no children on his own, and only a single sibling, was not familiar with the concept. However, it appeared he was about to become familiar. As Wichita’s knees buckled Kushiel’s mouth popped open.

“Uuhhhh, ma’am, is there somewhere, you know, else, that you could do this?” It wasn’t that he was trying to be insensitive. This just seemed like a really bad place, and he felt so very unqualified for the role of midwife. Naturally, she didn’t seem to hear him and Kushiel coughed uncomfortably.

Queue the meddlesome child. The birthing mother was followed by another child and Kushiel groaned inwardly. How many offspring did you really need? Now he was going to have to be a midwife and a babysitter? His grouchy despair turned slightly more sinister when the child recognized him. He hissed at the little girl, though it pained him to do so (he liked kids). He didn’t, however, like meddlesome kids.

“Hush, silly girl, and help your Ma.” Perhaps the child could be distracted. He didn’t have candy, so parental distress would have to do.

Then there was the issue of Gumby. He was just about to chew Kushiel’s leg off. The big stallion stamped around impatiently, aiming harmless kicks at the beast. That was when another mare showed up. The stallion roared in exasperation. What was he, a circus act? However, the newcomer seemed to be more interesting than Kushiel, and he heaved a big sigh of relief when Gumby ran to her. However, the mare demanded an explanation and Kushiel shot her an exasperated look.

“Look, lady. We’re a little busy here.” Kushiel gestured widely at the mare birthing behind him. He turned his head, only to see that the child had been born. Hey, that was easy! Kushiel puffed up a little. Another job well done. Now perhaps he could see to that escape plan. He shot the newest mare, the one with the nearly incomprehensible accent, a look.

“I don’t suppose figuring out what to do with me would include a lift home? He smiled what he thought was enticingly. Hey, he got here somehow, maybe he could get home the same way. That would save him a lot of walking.