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[AW] !! not one without the other - Printable Version

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!! not one without the other - Kindred - 07-10-2019

It had been a long journey, or at least realistically it had been. In her mind, though, it had lasted only seconds. She could only remember being ushered out in the darkness of night; her nose pressed tight against the cloth moon to hide her mind from the noises. Her panic-driven steps ever-so-slightly too loud, hips scratching against the stone walls that encased most of the graveyard ruins which were their camp. The same words repeating in hushed whispers - “they will execute you if we stay” - spiking louder between the throbbing of her heart that was being tossed around her skull. It was a vain attempt, blocking the panicked whisper which was only a figment of her imagination through her pendant – but she had tried, dammit. She had tried for Wren. Each of her movements based off of the body language of Wren’s wings and the swinging of her hips. Words weren’t particularly needed between the pair – even though Kindred could go on for days describing the beautiful things before her. 

It had to have been five seconds later, yet it was dawn and it was far colder than she recalled it being. It didn’t make sense. She vaguely recalls asking where they were, and if it was winter, but she doesn’t remember the response Wren gave her. The pair moved along, much closer this time in an attempt to keep each other warm and to keep Kindred from dissociating to the point where she could do nothing but shake, stuck standing in one place. Another twenty seconds and she could clearly see towering trees pulling into view – actually the entire breadth of her perception was trees. Warmth had finally started to radiate off of her coat.  

The words “We’re safe now. Stay close, must lose them in here. Confuse them,” rung clear in her head after Wren gently moved her nose away from the crescent moon which Kindred had started to cling to again. She remembers a pause, the feeling of Wren’s wings against her shoulders, and the concern breaking the almost monotone voice as Wren inquired, “Are you okay? Can you stay with me?” Kindred’s voice was almost a croak at this point, “Safe? Yes... staying...” her eyes wide as they stepped into the forest. A nod from Wren was all the encouragement she needed for the panic to begin to ease from her body. Whispered numbers being muttered under her breath – too muted to be picked up by anyone who wasn’t very close, but loud enough to force her mind to register them.  

Kindred fumbled over her thoughts, trying to recall what had happened. She knew it had been a few evenings at this point – sleeping in different sections of this vast forest – but she couldn’t place exactly how many or the different spots they had been in. Honestly, had Kindred been fully out of the dissociative state she might have been able to help Wren navigate this forest, but with her mind not completely her own all of the twists and turns looked the same. She shook her head, visibly trying to pull her mind back into her body as she steeled her legs and stopped in place. Her breathing was still quicker than usual, but at least it didn’t seem to place her close to hyperventilating or cause her pain. “Wren...” her voice trails off as she blinks away the thought of her sister disappearing in the shadows. “Wren, have we been moving in circles?” Baby blue eyes peered at trees, trying to find some kind of marking that would confirm or deny this belief – though if it confirmed it then it would only serve to stress the teetering mare even further. Kindred wasn’t certain she’d be able to pull out of it quick enough to stop the feeling of floating again. And, as she looked to meet Wren’s gaze it was almost as if her eyes were pleading for her sister to lie if they actually were going in circles. 

“We’ll... we’ll get out of here, right?” Her voice was anxious, probably a little louder than it should have been – and it definitely was betraying the fear she had been dealing with since they had left in the midst of the night those months back. Now, all there was left to do for the mare was to hope. 

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ooc: I have permission from @Brit to explain what Wren did prior to this post
Also @Wren; anyone else can join at any time (don't necessarily have to wait for Brit to post Wren).


RE: !! not one without the other - Wren - 07-10-2019

wren

How can I be substantial if I do not cast a shadow?
In the moments between, when she was not glancing over her shoulder or standing exhausted guard of her sister's trembling figure, Wren doubted. She was not one for inaction, for low self-esteem. Things simply were, and she just as simply reacted to them. But in the dark of the night, her cold lips pressed soothingly to Kindred's nape, Wren wondered if they could do this. If she could do this. Was she as capable as they had instructed her to be, or was that merely another inflated lie that Wren would have to inevitably dismantle? 

Even with this quiet, hissing voice in the back of her mind, Wren did not let it pause her steps. She swept through the exhaustion with fierce rigor, jaw clenched until the ache of her molars stretched into her temples and the pain kept her awake. There was nothing to be done now about her second-guessing. There was only Kindred, their pursuers, and the path before them. A lonely escape into the wilderness beyond their graveyard home, Kindred's silent haze imposing a muteness to the world that Wren did not know how to cope with. It felt unnatural, her twin's lack of commentary. Since birth it had always been Wren who struggled to string words together, Kindred the one to fill the silence with her mellifluous tones. Left alone with only her thoughts and the shell of her sister's body, Wren stewed in a hatred so profound and well-tended that it warmed her cold bones through the winter as they traveled. Anger was an emotion familiar and forbidden to her, a curse against clear thought and practiced violence. 

"You cannot feel, Wren. If you do, you have already failed. You must be cold, you must be calculating, or you are useless."

Hell take you, she spits internally, ghost eye glinting in the half-light of dusk. They were wrong about everything else, and though she fears - in some unspeakable way that she does not have the words or experience to define - that she is too broken and disciplined to feel properly, it does not dissuade her from trying. 

By the time they reach the imposing forest, with its mangled path and imposing darkness, Wren has not seen any sign of pursuit in well over a fortnight. She is not so naive as to believe they are free, but at least they are safe. She speaks this to her sister, whose eyes - though still fogged with a demon that Wren cannot fight for her - flicker and attempt to pitifully meet her own. "Safe? Yes...staying..." her twin breathes, and Wren swallows down her relief and gratitude. This is not the end of their journey, she will not fail her sister in these last moments. Wren may have been the herald of death, but it is hope that she always strives to deliver to Kindred instead. 

As one they move together into the darkness, scattered light illuminating their shared ivory spots in flashes. Wren keeps a wing against her sister's side at all times, a gripping fear of losing her in these brambles taking hold of her heart. It is difficult to maneuver through the wooded confines, even harder to keep direction, but there is a tugging in her soul that tells her - intuitive and instinctual as she is - that they are on the right path. When Kindred shudders to a stop, Wren's little legs stop immediately in turn. Her name warbles unsteadily off Kindred's lips, and Wren turns immediately to face her sister and provide her wholehearted attention. To hear Kindred speak more than a mumble of a word feels like breaking from beneath the ice she has been trapped under, frozen and paralyzed by the cold of solitude she has been left in, and gulping in breaths of fresh air. Her primaries tremble with emotion, with gratitude. She will not be left alone in this world she cannot faithfully interact with. 

"We are not in circles," she rumbles soothingly, letting both wings arc forward to embrace Kindred as her soft muzzle reaches for her dark cheek. "Will make it out, I promise. You trust me?" She gazes imploringly through her lashes, though Wren already knows the answer to this question she poses. Their trust lies only in each other, these days. It only ever had. But it is a comforting phrase to the both of them, and Kindred's confirmation will only imbue Wren with the courage and strength to keep moving forward when lethargy pulls at her very marrow. 

Nervously twitching her battered tail, the faebird takes a shaky breath. There is a risk in breaking the silence they have traveled underneath. It has protected them in their journey, allowing swift departure, but the time has come to seek new allies. Though Wren would rather exist on her own with only Kindred at her side, her desires are meaningless. Kindred deserved a kind home, a herd, the protection of loyalty that was supposed to be offered. Not that Wren fully believed these tales, with how sheltered they had both been. Still...it was a risk she would have to take. They had to find a guide, someone to lead them forward into their new lives. She would have to hope that her eyes had not failed her, that they were truly no longer being followed. 

Lifting her head to the sky, braid tickling the arch of her neck, Wren called into the air. It was a sound made rusty from disuse, but a call for attention nonetheless. As her breath left in whisps and her lungs deflated to end her song, she tucked her head against Kindred's mane and made a soft humming sound.

"We will find safety," she vows. Her ghost eye glints with malice beneath the moonlight, staring out into the distance with a vengeful gaze.

Let the bastards come, if they still follow. I will kill them all.

I must have a dark side if I am to be whole.
[Brian Tagalog's Stock Image] and @heartfullofjess 's coding






RE: !! not one without the other - Sloane - 07-12-2019


The forest had always been a sort of haven for Sloane. It provided her the seclusion that she had grown to love and yet, it was interesting enough to keep her attention. Since coming to Novus, the Viride Forest had been a constant source of drama that kept life interesting. Shortly after arriving, it had been set ablaze by a troupe of squirrel that could self-combust. The fire they sprouted on their backs damn near killed the whole forest and all of Dawn Court. It had been a random, freaky thing and yet, it had been quite interesting and unique. Sloane had made her first impressions on that day. She didn’t think she had made very good impressions, but they were impressions.

Not too long after that, a mysterious monster had killed two Dawn Court citizens along the edge of the forest that backed up to the river. Sloane had witnessed the dead bodies, their limbs torn from their bodies in a way that was animalistic and without care. That very monster still ran loose somewhere in this very forest. Sure, it was scary to think that with as much as she preferred traveling alone, that she could potentially be the next victim of the forest creature. And yet, there was some beauty in knowing that she was walking the fine line between death and chaos.

What drew her into the forest this particular morning could be not determined. She had spent some time on the island that seemed to sprout out of the middle of fucking nowhere. She had searched for the lost relic but really hadn’t turned up much luck. And yet, she still wondered about it. She had no use to ancient relics, but she did have a use to knowledge and secrets. Those things could be bought and sold. Eventually, money would be of consequence and it would be her method of bartering that would hold true against the test of time.

But she is here now, wandering the forest and quietly thinking amongst herself. She is unsure of exactly how long she has been in the solace of the forest, but it has been nearly all day. She remembered leaving just before dawn, but now it was the moonlight that lit her path, not the sun. Her steps are slow, meandering, going nowhere and somewhere all at the same time.

It wasn’t until she hears something that causes her to pause. Eyes look all around her looking for what might have made the call. If it was the monster, he had another thing coming. If it was another individual, then they were either stupid or new.

Deciding that she would at least make some attempt to investigate, Sloane alters her course. She follows in the direction of where the sound appeared to come from. It doesn’t take her long before she comes upon the two in an embrace meant only for lovers (for Sloane has never been close enough to another soul to understand the true meaning of friendship). One thing was for certain, it wasn’t a monster that made the call. That being said, these idiots probably called it to them.

She came another few paces before she stopped. Breath heaved out a sigh as she looked at the two of them. They looked similar and yet different, much like her own triplet siblings looked. These two were related, she was sure of it. This news made it all the more awkward to catch them in such an embrace. “You might want to get a room. The forest isn’t exactly the most secret of places.” She doesn’t care that she’s making assumptions. She doesn’t care that these two are inseparable. She also doesn’t really care if the monster jumps out at this very moment and eats the two of them alive. At least she doesn’t have to play welcoming committee anymore.

@Kindred @Wren






RE: !! not one without the other - Kindred - 07-14-2019

It didn’t take much for Kindred to garner Wren’s attention. Though, she can’t say that it ever really had. Her sister had always noticed the tiny differences in Kindred’s demeanor and acted more based off of those then the consistent babbling she preferred to give. The softness of the wings grazed across her shoulders, maw pressing against her cheek quietly as the mare says that they are not moving in circles, and that they most certainly will make it out.  

She promises. Wren promises. So, it must be? Right? It had always held true before. She promised that she would keep Kindred safe – and she had. Wren inquiring if her sister trusted her, well that in and of itself was essentially a rhetorical question at this point. Still, Kindred bobbed her head in agreement. “Yes, of course I trust you.” Sometimes, that was all she had left. Kindred pulls back from the embrace – trying her best to find whatever strength was bubbling deep inside of her core, hiding away from her every grasp. She knew she would have to be able to do things on her own – as she had always known. The band she had lived with had proved it to her, forcing her to function even when she wasn’t able to.

It was the loud noise that shuddered from Wren’s bodice which caused her to jump. Body moving, twitching, inching in closer to Wren as if the ghost of her feathers across Kindred’s hide would change all of the problems before them to dust.  They would find safety? She called out, after being tracked for so long – afraid for their lives – and she wholeheartedly believed that they would find safety now?! “Wren?! What if they’re still there. I – I... please don’t make me fight them! I don’t want to kill them! I don’t... I don’t want it...” she’s bumbling words, head swaying side to side slowly as she looks into the shadows of the trees around her. Aye, but they weren’t even really “shadows” anymore, for the chill of night had set in a while back and she hadn’t quite noticed it. At least... not with the forest covering the sky as thickly as it did.

Still, she tries to give Wren space as she hears the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Please... don’t let this be part of our old band... It was a plea to whichever god would hear her, for that was just about all Kindred had left in her. The horse stopped before the twins, a few hands taller than them, but just as dark as Wren. Specks of red lingered across the mare’s coat and streaks of the same hue were scattered throughout her locks.  Kindred couldn’t say she recalled the mare from the band of assassins, though that wasn’t saying much when most of her time spent there was in a haze at the end.  

“... a room... isn’t... secret of places...” Kindred’s head shakes slightly – grasping onto the words that her half-hazed mind can pick up on. A moment passes (too long for Kindred in her head, though not very slow at all in reality). “We’re not lovers...” Kindred says, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side, her thick forelock covering one of her eyes. All of her muscles are twitching in a panic, and it takes most of her to concentrate on her breathing – let alone figuring out if another person is good or bad. Those she had come across at this point had met their fate in a kind way – even if they had been assigned to kill rather than them walking into it with arms wide open. Yet, she chose to believe they had, after all their god of death had marked them for a peaceful end.  

Still, Kindred was unsure of what Wren had been hoping to accomplish with another learning of their existence so she stayed quiet. Most of her hoped it was to find a new home – someone who would be willing to take in two battered creatures, both adept at killing with one who would much rather heal.

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OOC: @Wren @Sloane


RE: !! not one without the other - Wren - 07-14-2019

The jolt of her sister's frame against her was like a dagger to Wren's heart. She knew there was no way to explain to Kindred her thoughts on this particular matter, no way to cut through the fog of terror that had clutched her beloved since the night they had escaped. Though it hurt to put her sister through any kind of pain from her own making, it was a sacrifice she had to make for the greater good - keeping Kindred safe. Wren gently knocked the base of their horns together, heterochromatic eyes delving into the milk-whites of Kindred's fear. Unflinching, solid. The rock that Kindred would always, always be able to lean against. "You will never fight again if you do not wish," she vowed, forcing her lips around the words for her sister's sake. Urging her silently to do just as she'd said - trust her. To know that Wren would never do anything to endanger her other half. 

"Always fight for you. Always." 

The sound of brush being crushed underhoof has her ears slicing back into the coils of her braided mane, immediately whirling on her hindquarters to face the newcomer. Though she had beckoned this mountainous creature, trust was not so easily awarded. Sharp, narrowed eyes strip the maiden, committing her to memory even as one broad wing arcs out to shield Kindred. The soft white of her inner feathers are like the poisonous etchings of other animals, a beacon of warning that if this creature strikes, she will be get only a mouthful of poison and death. Broad shoulders tensed and settled back, head arched high and macabre white marks upon her cheek glinted in the halflight as she assessed the mare. A silent language, a promise of brutality at the first hint of violence. 

A slight twitch of her long tail at Kindred's shuddering voice is her only other movement, distantly amused by her sister's stuttering denial. The fae could care less what relationship she assumes between them, and withholds a snort at the idea that intentionally calling out somehow meant Wren craved secrecy. Nonetheless she is here to barter, and the words hold heavy on her tongue, depressing it into her jowls as she works to break her own entombed silence.

"Mare," Wren calls across the distance between them, voice a monotone thrum between the darkened boughs that shelters them. Soft nares flex to receive Sloane's scent on the stale wind, seeking information. The border they straddled was like a glowing mental beacon, a claim upon the land placed by scent and patrol that Wren was unaccustomed to as a vagrant assassin. She knew this was some sort of herdland, at the very least. A step in the right direction. After a moment her crown dips almost imperceptibly, the smallest give of acknowledgement. As much as she detested it, they were at the disadvantage here.

"We seek haven," thusly falls like lead from her lips, primaries flexing to brush back against her sister's breast. A hidden, secretive comfort. Perhaps not just for Kindred. "Can offer skills. I am Wren, soldier. Kindred, medic," she announces stiltedly with a sharp tilt of her head towards her trembling twin. Announcing their abilities with the assumption that this stranger has the intelligence to understand she is advertising their potential specialized uses. "Can you lead to one?" The smallest twinge of emotion finally bleeds through her grit teeth here, despite her impassive face remaining affixed to her faelike features. 

Asking for help is not something she does. It is a weakness to admit defeat of any sort, and perhaps this mare - so similar in build, in apparent sarcastic apathy to Wren - can understand that. But this land is unknown to her, its regencies a maze of landmines she cannot hope to safely navigate with Kindred's safety at stake. Were it only she to bear the brunt of her decisions...but Wren will not place Kindred in that particular line of fire. Even if this mare proposed a contingency of returning to her previous murderous lifestyle, if it meant Kindred would be safe and at peace, Wren would do it. Poll inclines farther, despising her demure stature, and Wren prepares herself for anything. 

@Sloane @Kindred


RE: !! not one without the other - Sloane - 07-25-2019


Not lovers? The two could have fooled her. She’d seen it all, mares loving mares, stallions loving stallions, and even the occasional individual loving an object. It didn’t really phase her now as it had when she was a wee bit younger. People could love and fuck whoever they wanted as long as they didn’t impede Sloane on whatever mission she had set out on. As long as they generally stayed out of her way, they weren’t a problem for her.

However, the fact that these two were not lovers and caught in such an embrace was interesting to say the least. Since they were not lovers, as the first so quickly put, then what were they? Surely they were bonded, close emotionally to one another, perhaps friends or sisters. Sloane never quite understood the bond between two best friends or the bond between sisters. Yes, she had a sister, two in fact, but she never felt as though she would embrace either one in such a manner. And a friend? Well, let’s just say that Sloane is lacking such relationships. No one, save for poor Imopoea, had ever even bothered trying to call her friend. Sloane wasn’t exactly friend material. She didn’t love fiercely, protect with her life, divulge her secrets for free, etc. She was more a one woman show.

She watches the two of them, watching how the more dominant of the two seems to shield her companion, her eyes staring Sloane down as if she was the one to be feared. Sloane only met her threatening gaze with a gaze of her own, this one full of warning. Sloane was not a fighter, she never had been, but she was not at all opposed to making enough ruckus that the monster who roamed this forest came to finish off the two trespassers.

The start of a smirk pulls at the corners of her lips as the other addresses her simply on her gender alone. “Mares…” She responds with a snarky sort of sarcasm that only Sloane could muster up. As if to add to the sarcasm of the moment, she gently cocks her hip as she waits. Don’t keep Sloane waiting too long. Do so and you’ll find that the only sort of conversation you’ll be having with her is one in which she’s walking away.

Perhaps Sloane had thought they had some sort of important business. Important business meant that there was knowledge to be known and secrets to be sold. But then the stranger kept talking, this time asking about a haven of sorts. Sloane sighs, her interest in these mares quickly fading. They wanted safety. But at what cost? What would she have to do in order to keep them safe? What did they have to offer her?

The speaker of the pair seemed to understand her unspoken words, offering their skill set: a soldier and a medic. Somnus might have use for the two of them, even if she didn’t. But it was the way in which she announces their name that almost makes her chuckle. That grin spreading like wildfire across her lips. “Sloane. Nobody.” It was said in a manner similar to how a Native American might say “How!” It was short and without emotion. She has to hold herself from busting out in a complete laugh. It was hard, but Sloane was accomplishing the task.

And then it comes: the inevitable question of help. Sloane sighs as she motions behind her. “Somnus might have use for you…”because I simply do not. The only real use these mares had was stories. Stories and knowledge that she might be able to sell at a later point. Slowly she turns, her gait picking up pace as she leads the two towards the capital. Somnus would want to meet them, she supposed. Head peered over their shoulder, waiting to see if they were going to follow her. “Keep up…I don’t slow down for stragglers.” It was blunt and matter of fact. She wouldn’t hold back for anyone. If the monster showed up today, she’d be the first one out of this forest, leaving the two of them as bait.

@Kindred @Wren






RE: !! not one without the other - Kindred - 07-27-2019

Wren takes the lead rather quickly, following with a strengthened voice coated in the monotone nature Kindred had become so accustomed to. Kindred’s senses were slowly circling back in, though – allowing her to make note of the lingering smells across the land they had dared enter. Just as she feels her breath catch in her chest the brush of Wren’s primaries seems to flick the lock and allow the air to flow freely once more. Then, as Wren ducks her poll even further Kindred allows hers to do the same – steeling her body so that it no longer shakes.

The other mare’s name clicks deep, back into Kindred’s mind as it pulled its way slowly out of the haze. Sloane appeared to have no care, no interest, no desire for the pair of twins to actually follow her – though Kindred supposed the fact that she had a herd who might have needed one of the two skills was the only grace necessary. So, as the mare steps forward – peering with a head over her shoulder Kindred does so in-kind. “Thank you, ma’am.” Kindred says, doing her best to keep an easy gait behind the darkened mare. Her mind counting as many strands of Sloane’s red hair as she can. Two. Five. Ten. Fifteen. With each strand landing on a five she can feel her breath easing and her muscles relaxing. It was easier and easier to pull herself together – to bring herself back into a state of use rather than one which was simply run off of necessity. ”Who is Somnus?” Kindred inquires, voice finally ringing steady – the light chirp she usually had flickering out as her voice lilts upwards near the end. Perhaps Wren had found them a home? Neither sounded like a name she knew from their old group of assassins. Perhaps they might be safe for a bit…

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@Wren @Sloane