put your money on me, if you think i'm losing you ◄►
you must be crazy
In the inky darkness of the night he watched, eyeing the rolling waves as they poured onto the sand one by one, over and over. He had left Denocte for a brief venture into the night - a brief venture that had turned... longer than expected. He had underestimated the draw of a starless sky, the wrap of shadows around his mahogany skin turning him into a cloaked stranger in the night, unseen and unknown. Now overlooking the ocean on the cliffside, the Night King felt the shackles of his carefree responsibilities loosening and falling to the sand, the wind running affectionate fingers through his ebony curls.
The Terminus played a melodic background to his vigil and the moon, hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, shone dully across their mountainous surface. He felt utterly wild, a raging sea of untameable passions roiling underneath his still skin, silver eyes darting over the ocean as if they couldn't settle on a single wave. He thought of Florentine. He thought of Aislinn. He even thought of Sparrow, her silver hair vanishing into Denocte's bustling heart. They moved him, animated him enough to launch into a gallop, throwing himself toward the waters edge like a shadowy spear through the night. His coins sang an erratic tune, bouncing off of his muscular shoulders and tangling in his hair, the one piece of evidence that his mother had loved him, if even just a little.
He crashed into the waves, instantly slick and soaked up to his chest. The sharp bite of seawater forced a grin from his black lips - it was something a little desperate, a little off-kilter. The Night King was close to being dangerous when the light was so absent, writhing in whatever hot mess he had underneath his bones. A sigh was drawn from his lips, agitated, vital and bursting with energy as the movement of the water stroked the lines of his muscular body.
Tonight would be an alluring and unstable evening to stand beside the King of Thieves.
A point of sunlight in the velvet dark, Vadim pranced at the edge of the surf, letting it chase him back and forth across the beach. His narrow hooves flung up plumes of wet sand as he followed the water out to it's farthest point. As it rushed back in he fled, white tail flagged behind him and white masked head tossing. Air blew harsh from rose blushed nostrils, ribs expanding and compressing to drive air in and out of powerful lungs. In and out. Like the waves that beat against the sand.
He stopped.
The small cove was walled with cliffs that amplified the sound of the crashing water. As his breathing began to slow back to normal, his ears flicked forward. Listening. Was this ocean the skin of the world, rising and falling with every breath? Like the golden hairs that decorate his own skin and rippled with his inhalations. The night was so dark he could only truly see in shades of grey, and the water was black except for the crests of white foam. No starlight. No moonlight. It stole the golden sheen from his coat, darkened now by sweat and fleck with sea spray.
As he listened and breathed, he heard another sound mingled with the crashing of the waves. A similar sound but dissonant- it broke the rhythm of the world's breath like a cough or a clearing of the throat. Curiosity compelled him across the sand without hesitation, though he picked his hooves up high to avoid getting his feet any more wet than he had too. He waited for the surf to withdraw again before he skirted the curving wall the separated his little cove from the next strip of beach. At the edge of the wall, he could see the cause of the sound.
Another equine in the surf, a black shape against black water only really visible because of the breaks in the sea foam and the flashing of white teeth and pale eyes. Following the urging of the wind at his back, Vadim leapt forward. The ocean was foreign to him, as alien as the rest of this land he'd only so recently found himself in. Fear slapped into his chest as he crashed into the water but exhilaration quickly welled up beneath that. The waves pushes him, unlike the way they parted around the larger stallion, and his hooves scrabbled for purchase on the drowned sand he could feel but seemed to provide little purchase. The white masked head lifted on an arch neck, a trumpet of sound escaping his throat in a wordless greeting of one wild soul to another.
put your money on me, if you think i'm losing you ◄►
you must be crazy
The brine-soaked air hid the scent of Solterra from the Night King, kept his attention focused on the wobbly line of light upon the waters surface and not on the approaching stranger. So it was only as Vadim cast his svelte golden body into the water that Reichenbach stirred, snapping his rough hewn head around to stare intensely at the approaching dancer, just a golden slip in the waves compared to his muscular bulk. Their was a certain air of uncertainty lingering about his eyes, ears flicking forward to catch the wild, chaotic cry that escaped the golden stallions throat. Reichenbach tensed, then relaxed, the stillness fading from his strong body as he shook out his ebony curls and grinned, silently welcoming the sun-dancer forward.
They couldn't have been more different in their physicality - where Reichenbach was a void of light, wrapped in shadows and strength, each line of his muscular frame limned by wildness, Vadim was golden grace, agile and shining despite the lack of light. Yet... despite the differences between them, one thing remained the same. There was a wild abandon in the salty air, a chaotic acceptance of each other's vibrancy, the song that twined around each of their souls.
There was a long moment of silence, filled only by the roll of waves and the slap of water against their damp chests. Reichenbach felt almost as if he were dwarfing the younger man, noting with a gleam of amusement the strength of the waves against the slimmer, finer chest beside him. Only now could he distinguish the scent of heat and brazenness lingering upon the mans gleaming skin. The Night King didn't bother to hide his surprise as his musical voice finally appeared;
"You're Solterran?"
For he had never known a Solterran to be so jovial, so wild and carefree. He had only seen the militaristic side, the viper-like strength of head and heart that had come to be a trademark of the desert country. He had never seen someone so... Denoctian belong to the Court of blazing heat and death. The golden boy looked like he would be more at home dancing about one of the large bonfires at The Night Court, laughing and sweating as the music strummed his muscles.
@Vadim!! I love your boy!! He will definitely have to come have a dance in Denocte c:
A grin of welcome flashing bright on the dark face and the young stallion could but return it with a similar expression. It eased tension from the muscles along his back and soothed the loneliness that still lingered in the depths of him. As the waves buffeted him laughter pealed from his lips, no longer uncertain of this stranger cloaked in velvet night and sea water like some siren's steed. In his travels he had heard of a people who believed that horses had come from the ocean, created by some god which dwelt there. This, his first sight of the ocean and the presence of the dark stallion, lent the tale weight and context. He could see how such a creature could be born of the wild black waters.
For once, someone else has asked the first question. His ears flick briefly back, not in anger or fear but in some uncertainty. He is not sure how he feels about his adopted homeland at the moment and he did not think where he dwelt would be so readily obvious. Then again, Vadim was a creature of sand and wind and was it not obvious to the observant that he could be naught but a desert creature?
"Recently," he admits with a tilting of his head, casting one pale eye's gaze towards the other equine, blue iris turned near white. Color stolen by the moon-robbed night. "And you are Night court? Or wave-born siren come to see what land is like?"
The first is a shot in the dark, a wild guess based on the setting that surrounds them. Who else would be so at home in the darkness? He had only what the old sage had told him about the courts and he did not still quite understand their differences and nuances. Besides, he had been told ancient history- that could have little bearing on the modern courts or it could say a lot. The second question was edged with laughter, a playful taunt meant only to breathe a little more light into the starless dark.
The waves lifted him briefly free of the sand and his forelimbs tread automatically for traction. His eyes flashed, startled briefly as his hooves splashed up plumes of water as early they had thrown up sand. Then another peal of laughter escaped him, breathless with a jangly combination of nerves and excitement. The water let him down and his hooves again touched the loam-soft sand though it was hardly a foundation to trust. Still, touching the earth gave him some comfort. Was this what it was to fly? To be lifted free of the earth? How utterly strange.
put your money on me, if you think i'm losing you ◄►
you must be crazy
The golden man seemed almost the make the summer night warmer, perhaps bringing the desert heat with him, lingering upon his aurelian skin and washing toward Reichenbach with each wash of seawater.
Recently
Ah, so that was one thing explained. Natural born Solterrans, like the Davke, were more often stand-offish, though lately there had been new life and new blood bringing the desert kingdom to life. Reichenbach was not all too sure he liked the transition - Solterra had been a formidable place even as it lay in waste, now that there were foreigners entering the ranks of the Solterrans things were happening. The dry sand and skin-soaking heat was setting the Day Court back onto it's militaristic hooves, so to speak.
And you are Night court? Or wave-born siren come to see what land is like?
A warm chuckle escaped his throat at the idea, though truthfully he wouldn't have minded being born a creature of salt and waves rather than smoke and shadow.
"I am Reichenbach, King of Thieves and... also The Night Court."
Though he didn't really feel as if he were a ruler, rather a democratic member of his own beloved country. First and foremost, he was a Crow, a vagabond and a thief that had somehow along the lines risen to power. A smile played about his black lips as he watched Vadim float for a moment, taken too high upon the waves, a camaraderie tickling at his chest for this strange new Solterran.
"If you should like to see Denocte, we are having a festival for the Eclipse. Attendees will mainly be from The Dusk Court... though there will be some... few... from other Courts. You're welcome to attend."
Even among those who had adopted Solterra as their home, Vadim struggled to find his place. He had grown up in a place with a superficial resemblance, the same harshness of environment. And yet the people had been so different. His people had been peaceful, more concerned with surviving than with spilling the blood of their neighbors. Resources were precious and meant to be shared, carefully preserved. The occasional grievance was settled with a fight surely, if a better solution couldn't be come to. Better to look into the past, find any precedent in the stories of the ancestors and see if peace could be found that way. Such were the power of stories.
The golden stallion seems to pause a moment, only moved by the rise and fall of the waves when his dark companion is introduced, considering for a moment. His eyes are bright and curious. "I have never met a king before, besides the Day Sovreign." If you could call it meeting. He had very little contact with the Night King's counterpart in his own court. Certainly his interactions had not started off so positively either. "I am Vadim, and here they call me a sage."
He hadn't really come to much of an understanding of the title yet. He knew, abstractly, what a sage was meant to do but their day to day duties and influence in the court eluded him. Perhaps it was because they simply had so little. Certainly Inkheart seemed to hold some sway but for all she was the head of sages he felt little kinship to the zealous mare.
"A festival?" He tosses his head, dancing a little in the waves. He is getting the hang of them now, learning to move with the water and let it cradle him without feeling as though he is constantly falling. He had swum before in the still, calm waters of an oasis. But it was never so deep, so dark, or so strange. "I would love to attend. And to see your court." The second comment is not truly an afterthought, but a warm addition. He does want to see these different place, learn about them. If Reichenbach was as like his people and Maxence was then Vadim thought he would enjoy it very much.
put your money on me, if you think i'm losing you ◄►
you must be crazy
There was such a difference between this carefree Solterran and his ruler that Reichenbach considered taking the man home with him, showing him Denocte in an amiable light - rather than proving his Court could be the stuff of nightmares in the effort to keep the Solterran King from invading. The waves pushed and pulled at his broad chest as he considered Vadim, silver eyes gleaming in the shadowy light.
"A sage, hmm?"
He began, baritone voice reverberating deeply under the water.
"Do you have a particular interest in seeking out knowledge, Vadim?"
He hadn't thought there were many Solterran's that followed the path of Sage - and perhaps had himself been a little guilty of stereotyping the desert dwellers. Reichenbach, of all citizens of Novus, knew the damage of stereotyping. Calligo's court suffered it every day, fear emanating from the further territories like Dawn, with prejudice sneering on the faces of Dusk and Day. The Night King paused, perusing the shifting water as it reflected his goddesses stars. He turned to Vadim, handsome face eased of the concern he had beheld before the golden man's arrival.
"If you should truly like to see Denocte, I will send for you and meet you at the Arma Mountain Pass... keep watch for my messenger, Vadim."
He grinned, turning suddenly and surging from the water like an unstoppable force, the seawater clinging to his shadowy frame as he shook. His ebony curls flung water far and wide, though the Night King was now upon the sand of the ocean shore.
He glanced back at the floating figure of the unexpected Solterran, musing... considering. There were more citizens involved in the tensions than he cared to admit - for what would happen to those like Vadim if war broke out? Those souls that shone with such a brightness would be dimmed, or perhaps they would flare and set the world right again. Either way, The King of Thieves knew this would not be the last time he saw the golden skinned man.
ooc; @Vadim ahhh sorry this took so long :c I'd love to have them see each other at the Dawn festival!
