"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
There’s a girl there, but you can’t see her. Spring paints the rest of the world with an unlimited palette. The trees bud and then blossom and then push the flowers from the branches to coat the ground. Where they fall, the ground becomes a canvas of colors: the virgin white of the dogwoods, the pale pink of the magnolias, and the soft purple of the hawthorns. Where they’ve vacated, bright green leaves begin to unfurl and turn towards the sun. Amongst the stationary beauty, new creatures start to stir as well. Eggs crack and babies drop from their winter-weary mothers. They bring their own colors, too, these newborns. But theirs’ are drawn from an earthier, muted palette. They mimic the soil and the leaves of another season; like fall, they are all browns and blacks with pops of white here and there. She is painted much the same, but you can’t see her. She wears the wholly garbed trees as her own sort of coat. When you look right at her, all you can see are the magnolias and dogwoods fully resplendent. All you can watch is the careless weaving of the songbirds between the boughs of her cover (even they wonder why the air seems solid and impenetrable, though they are similarly blind to what is right before their eyes). Her mother goes about her life in the same way as the birds, wavering and purposeless. She hadn’t seen the girl, either (not really, not in the way a mother should with pressed lips and worried eyes) despite Eila’s deep longing. See me, she’d thought so many times and so desperately that her brain hurt from the silent mantra it played. I am here, Mother. Don’t you see me? But Emmerly was largely lost to her, lost to herself. Her life had been in a happy orbit that had been violently shifted. She is off-kilter now, spinning further and further away from a world she had once been drawn to. Because the girl’s father had seen her mother. Because Emmerly couldn’t hide in plain sight when the wolf had come upon her. Eila will not make the same mistakes. She had run away through the same forest that Pollock had found her mother, her heart full of loss and longing in equal measure. But the part of her that ached for Em’s guidance also came from a deeply-rooted selfishness. Her father had given her his own gifts, after all. A well of mud and tar and grime springs from her half of her genes, poisoning her blood even in their dormant state. She won’t watch her dam’s suicidal spiral; she won’t steer the course away from her inevitable collision with the sun. Maybe she doesn’t want to see it, to witness the once-proud warrior be defeated by despair. Maybe she does. Maybe a part of her wants to know that Emmerly burned in the end. You can’t see the girl, but she’s there. Motherless by her own choice. Fatherless by his own choice. She is there, invisible against a line of foliage bursting with all the colors she is not. She tries to be quiet, even though many wander just beyond her little shelter, but a sudden movement catches in the corner of her eye and she startles. A branch cracks beneath her feet. The birds take off immediately, their wavering motions streamlined as they take to the sky. Eila loses concentration and she is there, suddenly. Visible.
Eila
ooc: IT'S PROBABLY OBVIOUS I am still feeling her out...lol. No Dale, otherwise go for it
Hasenel made his way through a thick and quiet forest, having spent the last several days exploring the new land he had entered. This place was nothing like the homeland he had left, a place of little grass and other green things, a place scorched almost entirely by the sun.
It was a near miracle his kingdom had survived there for so many years, and Hasenel was the first in the royal line to leave it behind. With three elder brothers controlling the large quantity of mares, he saw with logic and sorrow that he must leave, in order to have his own chance to rule. And what's more impressive... He'd thought to himself. Taking over a kingdom already formed, or setting out to begin one?
Through the trees ahead, Hasenel could see a sunny field beginning to appear. Spring had now come, and the snow near the field was less than what he had been traveling through for a while. Many hoof prints had flattened the white, silly substance, and the smell of other horses was tantalizingly strong.
When the stallion reached the edge of the trees, he stepped only half way out, his head held high and his ears pricked. Other horses were minding their own business a little ways off, and just as he had decided to approach them, a sudden sound caused his head to turn and muscles to tense. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a mare had appeared only several feet away from him. Hasenel blinked, unsure of how he had missed her presence before, being as close as she was.
Quickly, however, he regained himself. "Hello," he said, his voice strong. "What would a mare like you be doing here, alone?"
04-09-2016, 01:12 PM (This post was last modified: 04-09-2016, 01:13 PM by Lexa.)
the dead are gone
She needs to get out more.
Lexa pauses at the edge of the field, dark eyes darting about anxiously. She hasn’t left the Jungle since she woke up, deposited there after the battle and it feels strange to be out in the open once again. She feels awkward, vulnerable, as if another battle is going to break out at any minute, though she knows that’s foolish.
She takes a breath and steps forward, eyes on the look out for anyone to approach. She is here for a purpose after all, to see if there’s anyone she can recruit. The Jungle is not doing particularly poorly in terms of numbers, but they always need more, and during the war …
She doesn’t want to think about that now.
Really she’s just trying to distract herself.
Luckily a distraction soon comes, in the form of a painted mare that suddenly appears out of nothing on the opposite side of the field. Lexa jumps, startled, then tries to cover her surprise. She’s far enough away that the mare probably didn’t notice.
Now curious, she begins to walk in the mare’s direction. She’s beaten there by a fiery red chestnut stallion (unsurprising, many would be interested in a mare appearing out of thin air), but she doesn’t mind. The more company, the more conversation, the more to distract her. She just doesn’t want to think about the events of the past few months.
She smiles warmly as she draws near, and nods politely in greeting. “Hello there. I’m Lexa, of the Amazons. What brings the both of you to the field today?”
The dip-dyed mare had been spending a lot of time in the field as of late, although they had an army and plenty of members it was not satisfying enough for her. She wanted more, she always wanted more - Kimber was insatiable on many different levels. It wasn't as easy for her to slip in and out of the shadows with her large blue jay wings, of vibrant teal, blues, black and white. Kimber, more than anyone, wanted to disappear into nothingness and have the gift of invisibility - however, such was not her luck. She scowls at the thought, perhaps Killdare had made her more visible so he could see her coming sooner.
She was a proverbial thorn in his side, she knows it.
She and the girl share the same type of mother, or lack there of, but everyone must have flaws and dysfunction - that was theirs, or the beginning away. She had been standing idly by the treeline when suddenly the paint mare had taken shape and within moments they fled to her like stink on shit. Naturally. A chestnut stallion from she-doesn't-care-land and the stench of the Jungle ensnares her, Kimber has a grudge and it sends her forward. The blue winged mare walks towards the group and overhears their cliche introductions and questions. "My, my, what a gift you have," she rattles out, her eyes calculating over the young mare, "Who says she's alone? Who says she wasn't cloaked to avoid bloodsuckers like you," she eyes the Amazon mare, their magician took her general, a memory she would not soon forget. "I'm Kimber, from the Chamber and I could care less about formalities," she is blunt and a small laugh escapes, "Here's how this happens - he tells you that he's going to love, honor, cherish and protect you...that is until you've had a few children and become boring. I'll let her tell you her spiel, simply because it's entertaining - go ahead," the dip dyed mare nods toward Lexa, waiting to hear her campaign to join the Amazons.
Kimber was doing her best to be polite though it failed her most of the time, she has been told to be friendly for now so she will at least bite her tongue in respect for Killdare. Kimber watches the paint mare more closely, she feels like her visibility was not intentional and the blue mare feels drawn to her. She, too, liked to slip under the radar -- she too was more comfortable in the quiet shadows without judgment.
Kimber
You don't know how hard I fought to survive, waking up alone when I was left to die
It amazed the stallion that two other mares where drawn to the one that had suddenly disappeared, and were trying to convince her that a home with one of them was best. Flattening his ears, Hasenel rejected the competition, and gave a special glare to the dip-dyed mare. Her assumptions about him were quite wrong, to say the least.
"Do not listen to strange winged creature," he said, unamused. "I do offer those things, but they will not fade away. If you're seeking a home, you have the offer to start fresh with me."
Standing stiffly, Hasenel then kept his eyes only on the paint mare, hoping she could sense his words were true. If she was any kind of mare he hoped she would be, she'd be far more interested in starting a kingdom with him than joining one.
Well, maybe to foreigners, but assimilation is expected if you’re going to live in a land full of magic. Which means that there are far worse than those with wings running around, and the stallion should watch his tongue when in mixed company.
She’s wandered away from the mare who seemed to be overwhelmed by her appearance, and shrugged it off. Some weren’t ready to entertain the idea of the ‘abnormal,’ some were simply going to grab the first offer that landed in their lap. She bid the two good day and that the champagne mare give her best to Kreios from Yael, and went on her way. Summer is setting, and with it, the leaves begin to turn - first yellow, mirroring her own coat, and then orange and red. Those colors are her favorite, but still a ways away. She ambles between the groups, shamelessly eavesdropping (because she can, and because why not?) until a familiar figure catches her eye. Or rather, another flash of gold.
Lexa. Yael smiles, the expression breaking across her face as she spies her spotted granddaughter. And a Chamberling, who more than likely won’t be thrilled to see Yael, but she doesn’t really give a rat’s ass about the blue mare’s feelings. If she had any. Chamberlings weren’t known for those. She ups her pace from an amble to a brisk walk, and though she has missed the fact that the object of recruitment has invisibility, a gentle touch tells her that something brews beneath the surface. They may be able to see her coming from the glint of the sun off her wings, or they may be so wrapped up in the power struggle that they don’t. Either way, she slips in next to Lexa, but refrains from touching her like she might usually do. Yael wasn’t at the Desert meeting, and when she’d given her descendant her golden coronet, she’d been a mere cloud of golden dust, and girl no more than an infant.
Perhaps the Amazonian will put two and two together, or perhaps not. But there is no doubt that Yael is at least a friend, as she smells strongly of peculiar sweat and spices of the Desert. She smiles at Lexa, and then tut tut’s to the stallion. He didn’t seem to bright, choosing to take on a sharp-tongued Chamberling, and an Amazonian warrior. “T’ere are more vinged creatures xere t’an you may realize. Some vit far more t’an just wings. Eet might be good of you to vatch your tongue… just een case.” She chuckles in a mostly non-threatening manner at the end of her short admonishment and turns to the silver buckskin mare. “Xello, I ahm Yael, of ze Desert. Eet seems like you xaf kite ze buffet of options before you. I can offer you safety and peace, eef t’at ees vhat you are seeking. Ve ahr looking to rebuild, to start vit a few loyal members.”
If it isn’t, either the ‘Zons or the Chamber are good options. Yael has her preference regarding the two, but ultimately, her home is nothing like theirs. An adventure seeker may be occupied for awhile, but in the end, they would probably grow restless. Theirs is a sleepy kingdom. More and more, she’s starting to think it’s by design.
YAEL
mother, queen, magician
... and then I decided to write a novel, for no apparent reason. oops.
04-20-2016, 10:57 AM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2016, 11:00 AM by Eila.)
She is visible, and very quickly, no longer alone.
She hadn’t been taught how swiftly the vultures would descend upon her in the Field. Apart from all her other failings as a mother, Emmerly’s education of the girl hadn’t extended to what happened after she left home. Of course, the once-warrior had never imagined her daughter would flee rather than fly from the nest. Eila doesn’t know that her dam had meant to keep her pressed to her side forever, both a crutch and ward against a world that had so wronged her.
So she starts when she sees the stallion emerge from just behind the trees. He spots her almost immediately, his eyes connecting with her’s and making it clear that he will change his path in order to approach her. The assuredness of his movements unnerves her more than anything. Where does his confidence stem from - a desire to help or harm her? She considers becoming invisible again to evade the fiery-colored man, but then what would be the point? Hasn’t she run away to escape the fear that her mother perpetuated? Hasn’t she traded in the certainty of the golden fields of heaven for the shadowed unknown of the rest of the world? Fear is her motivator - she will not be caught by it.
But his greeting is less than pleasant.
The younger girl eyes the older man with a healthy amount of trepidation. Her hesitation only grows when he fails to provide his name, instead inquiring about her purpose in the Field. As if she would be safer still at her mother’s side (if only he knew) or anywhere else but here. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing, I guess.” Eila takes a step backwards, further away from the red male. He is much too close for a mare as alone as he says she is. Fear doesn’t flash in her eyes at his remark but nor does she look apologetic for moving.
She fumbles for an answer but is spared the necessity of finding one when they are joined by another. The black spotted mare has an easy, warm manner to her approach that the young woman should be reassured by but isn’t. The first vulture has done enough damage, but she sidles closer to the other woman anyway. She at least gives her name and place of origin. It coaxes the smallest of smiles from the painted girl, because she knows the Amazons best of all the kingdoms outside of the Gates. Emmerly’s lips had loosened enough to reveal a great admiration for the place; she had even abandoned Heaven and gone to the Jungle seeking a new home at one of the lowest points in her life. Not the lowest, Eila thinks, tasting the bitterness of truth on her stilled tongue. My birth was ruinous.
“Hi Lexa, she says quietly, looking back at the chestnut stallion. Something tells her he won’t be happy with the expansion of their conversation. But just as she thinks it, it expands even further. A blue mare with dazzling wings breaks into the small group. And if Eila thought the male had confidence lying as quiet as dynamite in his veins, she now thinks he pales in comparison. Kimber barrels into her quick introduction which she follows up with a warning against the other competitors. Eila’s eyes grow wider the longer the Chamberling’s speech goes. She realizes how little she really knows of the world outside of Heaven’s idyllic bubble. Is that what the herds are really like? Do the women simply churn out child after child, content in their meager existence serving the stallions that claim them?
The chestnut refutes Kimber’s criticism, but the visible girl has heard enough. “I…I don’t even know your name. You don’t even know – or have asked – mine. It's Eila.” She swallows and looks at the other two females, trying to imitate the blue one’s strength. Besides, she rather likes her flashy wings. “I don’t want to go with you and live that kind of life.” She wants a life of surety, of stability; she cannot continue down her mother’s shaky path somewhere else. The idea of being replaced is horrifying to the young girl, especially when she’s never felt wanted in the first place.
Another mare joins the group, this one golden and glimmering. She has a motherly aura about her, though, that sets Eila’s nerves on edge. With a foreign accent, she chastises the herd stallion before turning to the rest of them and then to Eila, specifically. It is so strange being courted by so many in such a short amount of time that the girl misses the beginning of Yael’s speech at first. It sets a part of her to purring; she’s never had so much attention heaped on her at once. Her ego had been fueled by rejecting Hasenel – what will it be like to turn away another? She waits until the desert-mage has finished before she decides to find out. “These two women already have offers on the table. Thank you for your concern, ma’am.”
She doesn’t know that Yael is far more powerful than she can ever hope to be, but in that moment, she feels close enough to invincible. Sparing the older woman a small smile of dismissal, the silver-dipped girl turns back to Lexa and Kimber. “Please, tell me more about your homes. What will my life be like in each of them?”
04-21-2016, 11:06 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2016, 11:13 PM by Lexa.)
the dead are gone
They are soon joined by a striking winged blue mare, and Lexa’s hair stands on end when the scent hits her nose. A Chamberling. Her lips peel back to bare her teeth, but she forces them back down with more than a little difficulty. The war is over and the blue mare is not being particularly aggressive, even if her mere presence rather offends Lexa. And really, the field is really not the best place to start a fight.
She’s caught off guard and nearly chuckles when the chestnut stallion opens his mouth to address the painted mare. At the very least she can’t help the smirk that crawls across her lips. If he’s that concerned about a damn pair of wings, what on earth would he think of her abilities?
A sound catches her ear, and she turns to see a bright golden mare approaching them. Lexa is caught for a moment, transfixed. Not because of the gold (which is unusual to be sure, though she herself has a little gold colouring), but because of the intense feeling of familiarity. She doesn’t recognize the face, but she feels like she knows this mare … somehow.
She shakes her head (trying to clear the sensation) as the mare addresses the chestnut and Lexa smiles again as the stranger admonishes him. She briefly considers giving him a brief show of power, just to show him what else is out there, but clamps down on the thought. She’s going to keep what she can do under wraps … unless the Chamberling becomes a problem.
The painted girl finally speaks up and Lexa turns back to her, still smiling. Her smile widens just a little as the girl rejects the stallion and introduces herself with one quick statement. She’s surprised though when Eila immediately declines Yael’s offer as well and turns to look at Lexa and the Chamberling with a request for more information.
“Well, the Amazons is a kingdom of mostly mares.” She has no way of knowing that the girl already has a rudimentary knowledge of the kingdom. “And as for what your life will be like, well, that’s up to you! We have two castes - the army and the diplomats. I am personally a member of the army.” Her eyes momentarily flick to the blue mare. She doesn’t recognize her from the battle, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t there. “Army members participate in mock battles to keep up their skills, and diplomats assist in our relationships with other kingdoms. And if you aren’t interested in either caste, that’s fine as well! We have plenty of horses that are simply residents of the kingdom.” She pauses, thinking. She’s given a pretty basic description of any kingdom, but what really makes the Amazons the Amazons? “We are a pretty close knit group and very loyal to each other.” They would die for each other, have died for each other … but that might be a little intense to mention for a recruiting spiel.
