Curiously, the natural road gave way to a broad meadow, and even from the great distance from which she was to it, another tower stood. Though she had heard tell of other courts in passing since arriving, actually laying eyes upon another construct of the ancients of this distant collective of realms was something remarkable. It drew the endlessly inquisitive girl to a stop, her eyes widening as she beholds the distant towers.
Eager to be a bit closer, or to perhaps find someone to tell her where it is she has found herself, the girl picks back up her wandering at a trot, but this time, rather than aimlessly following some random landscape, she made her way towards a destination. Humming as she makes her way across the fields, it isn’t long before the gentle music generated in her head makes her way into the open air.
Not the best of singers, but certainly not the worst, Maude’s voice was ordinary at best, and, at times, painful to listen to, especially when she struck the high notes. If she stayed casual and remained in a moderate range, however, there was a gentle, story-like quality to her voice that was pleasant, and, if nothing else, her songs were usually about pleasant topics. In time to the beat of her hooves against the ground, the girl gives voice to the tidbits of song she has had great difficulty airing, due to her grief. Something about today made it easier, however, and the more she let her voice out, the easier it became, even though this song, like most, was one that had initially been written at home; Evangeline had even helped her work out the second stanza.
“The Forest Queen in fall
is prettier than them all!
Red leaves worn in her hair,
her silk cloaks, ever so fair.
Gents press her for a dance,
for even just a tiny chance
to see the Queen twirl at all!
And yet the Forest Queen
was just as merciless, and mean… ouch!”
Her cheerfully bellowed tune is cut short as one of her hooves plunges downwards suddenly, throwing the maiden off balance, and wrenching her ankle harshly. Stumbling about before haughtily limping her way back towards the hole, her brows furrow down over her eyes as she angrily glares at the guilty foot-grabber. Whether a rabbit or gofer, she is unsure (Maude was a gardening girl, and knew very little about critters, however cute she thought they were), but the result was the same…
Her ankle was awfully sore. She was certain it wasn’t sprained or broken, just almost so; hopefully, just hanging out for a while would give it time to feel better, and let her carry on with her adventure.
Hopefully, she thinks to herself, with an overly dramatic sigh.
so give me hope in the Darkness
that I will see the Light
The creek was born from a river, as most were. Having followed the bend of the water along its natural path, the youth arrives upon the babbling scene of the Rapax and pauses to drink in its beauty.
The silver water bends through the earth, leaping and dancing over boulders, and spilling in small falls. Shimmering in the cool race of the river are fish, occasionally leaping upwards and shining in the sun, before they return to the water. Gently touched by the passing of a breeze, the maiden sighs in contentment, feeling the mist of the river land in dew drops upon her face, and the rippling length of her milky mane.
Her toed hooves begin to move after a moments reverence, stepping gingerly between the stones lining the riverbed, to allow her to draw closer to the swiftly moving water. Giggling as the crisp water envelopes her ankles and tugs headily at her submerged limbs, the tree-marked youth makes her way towards a section of the water that seems deeper than the rest. With a gasp as the water is suddenly about her lower chest and the very bottom bow of her belly, the girl quickly rises up with breathless laughter at her impulsive decision, her long tail drifting along the water behind her, and eventually streaming liquid down to the earth below, as the maiden bounds back onto the river bed.
Glad to be cooled but not quite glad enough to remain in the water, the girl looks out across this side of the river, now that she finds herself here, and finds an open stretch of hill-laden meadow that spans between two groves; this natural road is most alluring. Her ears lift upwards, and her pale green eyes curiously search what little she can see over the rise and fall of the landscape, and, as she often does, the girl asks of the air:
"I wonder what’s beyond those hills?"
Maude
How should we like it if the stars were to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me.
The dusk has long ago been consumed by the night and, adorned in shadow, she comes at last.
There is no hiding the Dusk Emissary, not with her petals that fall like the autumnal leaves to leave a trail in her wake. They twine in from the mountains, weaving their way around rocks and sparse shrub. They trace down through sentinel trees and over babbling brooks. On and on they lead towards the firelight glow and music of revelry.
There they find their flower girl host upon the edge of the merriment. She has not heeded the midnight call of the Night Court since his coronation. Now, here within this merriment, with laughter and dance lit by bonfire light, she knows why. A part of her belongs within this Court; a part of her yearns for it. It is the part that smothers the dusk in darkness and starlight and here it grows. To the sound of this carousing music and bohemian spirit it begins to thrive, to dance.
Yet the girl does not.
Not even when her feet beg her to remember how she danced bare foot through these crowds once before - when she first began to feel those alluring whispers of night upon her golden skin. But those alluring whispers were nothing to those of their king. He took the part of her that belongs here and cleaved the girl in two as he did. As Florentine stands, dusk light and starlight warring within her, she wonders if she will now only ever be whole when Reichenbach is near.
Above the din, above lilting music and a sea of laughter and voices, she hears his laugh. Through the flickering flame of his wild bonfire she sees him. Amethyst eyes trail the wild curls of his black, black hair, the tilt of his lips and the charm of the smile they make. Dusk watches as the Night enchants his courtiers. Florentine makes no move toward him, though his name plays upon her tongue, her lips, her heart.
His gypsy coins glitter, the twinkling of golden stars and she knows how they sound within a sacred temple, brought to life only by their shared breath. The twilight girl thinks of what their love has cost: a broken heart and tears, so many tears… She should leave! She should flee back to the safety of the dusk court but…
He told me he was in love with you.
And that is why Florentine is here: to berate him for loving her, to berate him for stealing her heart, but, most ashamedly of all, whilst Aislinn’s tears still dry upon the cliifside, she has come to fall into his starlight with no thought of ever returning.
The place where her heart once was, a place that should be so empty, instead feels full, full to bursting. The Night King is everywhere within it. There is no hidden corner that does not know him, and when at last his starlight gaze finds the amethyst of hers, there is only one question her eyes ask him through the crackle of flame between them, Have you kept my heart well?
@Reichenbach one bonfire thread, as requested -snug-
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
Twilight had to be her absolute favorite time of day, when the sky was lit with the gorgeous combinations of reds fading through pink and orange to yellows, and purples mixing with the blues. It was always a magical thing to observe, but even more so when surrounded by a breathtaking meadow as she was now. Sprawled out rather unceremoniously in a secluded area of the lake's shores was a midnight blue hued mare, staring longingly up into the stars that were slowly beginning to speckle the sky above. Lyra had few precious memories left, but she remembered her home, she remembered the war, and she remembered her brother. At some point in her life however she'd begun to start losing hope that he was still alive, somewhere out there.
There'd been no real signs of him anywhere she'd looked, so it was hard to keep focused on trying to find him when it felt so helpless. It didn't stop her from stargazing though, and whenever she did, she was completely zoned out, focused solely on the sky. Though, this particular evening, the smell of the water that surrounded her was rather distracting, relaxing even, she it took all of her will to not doze off. Taking a deep breath of the aroma, Lyra stretched out and gave a quick couple of rolls, letting it soak into her skin as she did so.
If she were truly honest with herself though, which she usually was - just not to others, she was lonely, and had been for far too long. She'd never bothered to make any friends in the places she'd been before, mostly because she always found herself in dangerous situations and friends were just liabilities, so it was simply easier to just not make them in the first place.
She could still see the sudden bursts of emerald fire, the heavy smoke of the burning hull of her ship still strong in her nostrils. Behind closed lids, she dreamt; horrible nightmares that stank of charred flesh and bone, the cries of her loyal crew, the stars shimmering high above them with nothing more than a glimmer of sorrow. The sea gods did not save them.. no, they damned them. Their enemy a mad man who dared call himself a pirate king over her own.. her lover. Her mate.
The last glimpse of his face still haunted her as she drifted. Her memories tugged and pulled, showing her how they had all been surprised, terror sinking in and drowning them in fear. So sudden, so unexpected. The perfect target for a night raid in the middle of the wide ocean blue. Her muscles twitched as she remembered the taste of wine on her tongue, the feel of her lover's lips grazing hers before the screams started. Ambushed; their beloved crew taken, under siege. The sharp tang of metal on metal as her king clashed with his cutlass, and she with her own rapier. She would not let their rivals overtake them; her blood had sung a war cry that broiled deep in her bones and her heart. Stronger than the call of the ocean itself, her need to protect and defend burning brighter than the green fire that began to eat away at her own ship. The hull exploding in sheets of wood, splintering as the sea began to drown them.
They were ocean-blessed sea fairers that were drowning drowning drowning; in salt and brine and blood.
She shook, silently crying as her mind relentlessly replayed the memory. Her stomach pitched as she recalled falling; her last view of the ship and her beloved's face as he looked at her. The shock that lined his beautiful features, his silver eyes going wide with anger and grief, and rage before he turned back to take on his enemy captain headlong. Then she had smacked the water, sinking deep below and choking for air before she reached the surface, sweet oxygen flooding her lungs like the bliss of tasting sugar. She recalled searching; for her crew, for something to grab hold to.
She did not remember pulling herself onto a large plank of wood before the smoke coating her lungs and her wounds lulled her to sleep.
Where her skin did not touch the water lapping at her sides, and her back legs still halfway plunged beneath the ocean's surface, heat flooded her skin. Shivers of warmth ran the length of her spine, bright sunlight burning the back of her eyelids as she whimpered, her dreams continuing to replay the terrors of the night before. Dawn had risen, the sky streaked in the colors of morning; and the shores of a new land laid close to her. Unconscious, unknowing. The cove encircled her, the waters becoming shallow more and more as she drifted ever closer to the sandy shores.
The Blue princess, the Takarian Queen, was asleep and unaware of where she was and how her crew, her ship, and her mate had fared from the horrors before.
Now that fall had pulled away summer's warm grip on the continent, the days became more and more tolerable. The morning dew became frost that would soon melt by the time the sun rose high in the sky.. trees shed their vivid green hue for a more soothing red and orange tint.
Amare Creek, despite the nipping chill in the air, was no less full of life. The creek bubbled soothing nonsense on the smooth stones along the bank, and even in the fall the birdsongs could be heard high into the swaying trees. Mother birds nudged their fledglings along - many of whom were now testing out their wings and gathering their bearings before Winter came into full effect.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
But something about the Creek would call to Jude. Its whispers were soft and sweet, tugging at the edge of his dreams; caressing the pastel pink of his mane and down the rose colored scales as the dreams slipped away. It would leave the sweet pony with a smile tugging at the edges of his lips while he slept, but it would confuse him upon reawakening. The touch, why was it so sweet, so gentle, so familiar?
Something called him to travel north, far from the comfort of the Dusk citadel, and into the open wilds of Ruris. Past the Susurro Fields, skirting the edge of the Tinea Swamp and the thick forest surrounding the Bellum Steppe. Cresting through the trees, the babbling of the Creek would be a soothing revelation.
But why did his dreams call him here? Where was he supposed to go?
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Atop a small outcropping of smooth rocks, rested a cream-colored puff of a feline, lounging leisurely in the peaking sunlight of early afternoon. Eyes the color of the summer leaves were lazily half-lidded, legs sprawled out as the precious feline lay sprawled out on her right side, tail swaying contentedly against the polished rocks. It had been naught but a day since she had ventured into Novus in search of the pony who matched the vivid coloration of her flower crown.. for despite her indifference to the blossoms, something about them had lent her comfort in her time away from her beloved Jude.
But Novus was so large, where was she to look? Unfamiliar lands certainly weren't her... specialty, after all.
As if listening to her thoughts, however, the universe and gods seemed to answer her. Carried on the chill wind was a smell so intimate to her that it instantly prickled the fur along her delicate curved spine. Emerald eyes opened, and without her even realizing it, she had stood up and was slipping languidly down the rocks.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Every sense in her body nudged her towards a particular cluster of trees that separated part of the Creek from a clearing beside it, and small paws carried her quickly (as quickly as she could without straining, because there's no point in stressing herself, is there?) across the clearing to them. Without a second thought she scaled up a smaller tree with ease. Through the branches Mittens wove, her elegance prevalent even surrounded by twigs, leaves, birds, and empty nests. As she picked her way from one to tree to the next, finally there was a break in the leaves that lent her sight into the small clearing beyond.
It was then she saw him just below her, and for a moment she wondered if he was as confused as she thought he looked. A low purr slipped through her chest and throat, and she quietly stepped onto a low-lying branch of the tree closest to the rose kirin. Never one for exerting herself, her body stretched languidly along the branch, a small paw and a fluffy, silken tail dangling precariously close to the pony. So close, that even a gentle flick of her tail caused it to brush along his ears and antlers.. beckoning his attention in a most peculiar way.
Their contact sparked something akin to a small static shock, and in moments, their minds were once again one. And oh, the touch and their reunion was so, so bittersweet - although you'd never see her admit such to anyone other than Jude himself.
Took you long enough to find me.
Something pulls @Jude away from the Dusk Court, towards Amare Creek. Cresting through the trees, Jude finds himself in a small clearing a little ways away from the Creek itself, unsure of where to go. Mittens senses his presence, and finds a perch in a tree that Jude is standing by, seeking to gain his attention by brushing her tail along his ears and antlers.
Thread requirements: 1 reply, 500 words. Please tag the RE account in your reply.
Once you respond, you may then begin including Mittens in Jude's posts.
Posted by: Maxence - 10-02-2017, 08:04 AM - Forum: Archives
- No Replies
M A X E N C E
UNEASY LIES THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN
The steps of the commander were urgent, filled with purpose, and crowned by nothing but the weight of an angered and unsure sovereign. A burden lay upon his shoulders, one that perhaps was about to be lifted or worsened as he clopped down those steps to the dungeon.
If Rostislav was a spy then he was passing a sinner on to greener pastures and potentially leaving his people to fire and wrath of Reichenbach, though honour demanded he not hold the Night Court's new Warden captive without evidence. This Warden's sudden departure form the day court was what had prompted his arrest though, and perhaps Maxence was glad the fat alcohol-reeking man no longer dwlt among them - for him, it would seem, loyalty could be challenged by nothing but sand in his eyes.
With a mighty bash upon the cell door, Maxence hardly even wasted a second to glance in the captive's direction. "Go" He beckoned - or rather, demanded.
The night is no longer young; the moon hanging nearly full high in the skies above the slumbering castle and its Court of Dreams. A silver ornament amongst the backdrop of the Goddess' beautiful shadows; the inky black and subtle indigo the most lovely between every bright, shining star. Calligo's sea of pearls glimmered and answered every wish, as stunning as they ever were. The most constant listeners for every hope and dream that may grace them.
But not every dream.
In one of the castle's tallest towers, as close to the Night Goddess' stars as she could reach, a gypsy woman slept. Fitfully, at the mercy of terrors that ravaged her. Pure exhaustion pulled her into the clutches of sweet, sweet sleep; but the adrenaline coursing through her blood tugged her awake. A consistent cycle, every hour without fail. Her dreams no longer blissful, no longer full of joy. Her nightmares robbing her of breath and her sanity. The oxygen in her throat raspy and burning burning burning as she panted. Her silk sheets entombed her, no longer a comfort, but a cage. And her body, soaked in sweat and glistening in the pale moonlight filtering in through the windows.
She could not escape her dreams, and the stars dare not listen to her silent pleas for them to cease. To leave her be.
Her lips were coated in the taste of salt, tears falling freely down her face through closed lids as she thrashed. A cry ripped from her throat, the phantom blade in her chest gone, although she swore the feeling of it's silver metal twisting ever deeper into the cavity between her ribs.. and towards her mending, broken heart. She jerked upwards, her breath hot and quick through her lungs that were ablaze; the shadows of her room morphing into monsters before her orbs cleared. The moon's pale glow illuminating every dark corner of her tower room, her blood no longer drumming loudly in her ears with every rapid breath.
She barely caught the sound of musical bells then, as her gaze flitted towards the open window.
Somnus had awoken that morning to crisp air and frost upon the window glass. Fall had swept into Novus seemingly overnight and settled in the bones of the earth, the world beginning its preparations for the oncoming winter. It would be his first change of season within Novus, but hopefully it would be the first of many more to come.
From his chambers he departed, hooves creating a lazy cadence along the stone floors as he traipsed the hallways of the citadel, wings furled close to hold in body warmth and fight off the lingering morning chill. His pace was slow and leisurely, for he truly had nowhere to be nor any pressing matters to attend to. The golden tactician had half the mind to seek out Ulric and spend the morning lazing about with his dear companion or engaging him in the art of friendly debate, but decided against it. Ulric had become quite busy as of late, and the last thing that Somnus wished to do was divert his friend's attention from something incredibly important.
So, that was how the dunalino found himself in the Dawn Court's impressive library. He felt at home there, amidst the tomes and pages and manuscripts, relishing in the wizened atmosphere. Vast knowledge was housed within these halls, and he wanted nothing more than to memorize every piece of wisdom provided before him.
The silence was music to his ears, undisturbed and non-distracting. He would deftly pull old books from their designated places with great care and reverence, grasping every tome within dark lips as though they were made of delicate glass. From there, he would tuck himself into a corner, flipping each page as intelligent verdant eyes skimmed every line, absorbing every word with quick wit and remarkable efficiency. After completion, Somnus replaced the novel with just as much care as he had removed it with, before moving on to the next, and that was how the strategist spent his morning. Pouring over novels, over documents, over books nearly the size of his head, he focused on nothing else save the words written down on pages.
Noon arrived, but still the dunalino was not bored nor discouraged, bogged down by reading book after glorious book. The only troublesome realization, however, was that the rows were growing higher and in turn, becoming more and more troublesome to read. There, Somnus stood, tail flicking in irritation as a thick tome lay just out of reach, hanging above his head like a savory treat and he, a starving, insatiable knave.
Oh, certainly, he had wings, but the simple thought of attempting to take flight within such an enclosed, precious space was positively asinine. What if he knocked the books from the shelves, sending them into disarray? Truly, he wanted to read them, to know what secrets were tucked amidst countless pages, but Somnus was not a creature who would abuse inanimate objects for his own satisfaction. So, instead, he stood there, indignant and thoughtful. How could he possibly hope to reach it...?
Verdant eyes narrowed, focusing entirely on the dusty tome just overhead. He focused, brows furrowing, lips taut in a deep, disdainful frown. How in blazes did the other members of the Court reach?!
Abruptly, there was a shift. So focused as he was, focused on the red-spined tome still so far out of reach, Somnus was unaware of the changes, of the subtle thrum of something in the air. In one moment, the innocent book remained situated between its parchment companions, and in the next, it twitched, unceremoniously yanking itself free and shooting across the room as though thrown.
There was a clatter of hooves as the dunalino practically jumped in surprise, in wonder, as the book soared through the air and landed with a muffled smack! against the rump of none other than the Dawn King himself, Kasil. For a moment all Somnus could do was stare, mouth partially agape, emerald eyes wide as saucers in surprise. "Ah! Erm..." Truthfully, he hadn't even been aware that his King was in his presence, so focused on his reading as he was. Normally so swift of tongue, the tactician found he was at a loss of what to say. "Apologies, Majesty. I... Was quite unaware that the books within these halls could fly."
@Kasil and anyone else that would like to see this disaster unfold. xD This is legitimately just a self-indulgent thread of Somnus discovering that he has limited telekinesis.
When Huldra became aware of her surroundings there was a stray, slightly manic part of her mind that wished suddenly that she could go back the where she had come from. The vast black nothingness of the portal that she had come through formed into an entirely new landscape and the mare found herself on the edge of a precipice, a curve of mountain trail that fell away on one side into a sharp cliff face. There was enough time to arrest her forward momentum but by the time she was able to stop herself, her painted frame was teetering dangerously close to edge. Her gasping, panicked shriek echoed back at her as she watched, horrified, as the stones she had dislodged clattered down the incline and out of sight. She didn't dare to move, hardly dared to even breath for a long moments before she felt steady enough to take a step backwards onto the solid path she found behind her. Several meters away from the edge, and the mare's attention lifted to let her fear-stricken eyes take in the rest of the landscape.
Mountains.
Mountains when just moments before she had been in a marsh, when just moments before she had been amidst a surging mass of bodies trying to escape a monster bent on destroying them and the very lands they had inhabited. But now, she was alone, and second by second it was that solitude, that eerie quiet, that disturbed her far greater than her change of location. Kisamoa the killer was gone, but so was Tarik, who had been consumed by shadow and smoke, and Ralik, whom she had pushed into the portal, and so was Siggy...
Huldra felt the absence like she imagined it might feel to have one's body ripped in half, the soul that had been tethered to hers was simply gone. "Siggy?" the gasping question was ragged in her throat; a childish, pitiful thing. She could not have prepared for this, could never have imagined that suddenly the snake's presence could be so unceremoniously ripped from her heart and mind. She staggered, disoriented and looked around again as though she might see the little adder there but there was nothing and no comforting hiss in her ears from a body twined around her horns. "SIGGY!" She shouted it now, like her sheer desperation would produce some answer from somewhere in the stone spires that rose around her. "RALIK!" No answer made it's way back to her. She couldn't bring herself to yell for Tarik.
Keep a hold on yourself! Some instinctual sense of self-preservation seemed to snap into place and Huldra tried to tamp down that quakeing panic that had taken a hold of her. A few slow deep breaths helped with the trembling but her heart was still rushing maddeningly in her ears; a staccato beat that pounded fear into her brain Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. "You're not in Valhalla yet, bitch, pull yourself together!" At least she didn't think she was dead... The sound of her own voice, however, seemed to help. It was something to fill the gaping hole of nothing that threatened to engulf her and so she kept speaking her thoughts aloud as she tried to figure out.
"They're alive. Wherever they are, they're alive; you can worry when you're not about to fall the fuck off a mountain. By the gods did it have to be fucking mountains?" She looking again at the path she had found herself on. It seemed well established, and so must lead somewhere. She chose the direction that seemed to be going slightly more downward and set off at a careful yet doggedly determined walk. "Get yourself out of this fucking place and figure out where the fuck you are and then you can fall apart you miserable wench." And she continued to mutter in a similar vein as she trudged into whatever it was that would greet her here.
Huldra She's long gone with her red shoes on
Gonna' need another lovin' baby
