[AW] Move on through the evening light

[Polunin]

‘Do not go into those woods,’ They say.
“You can never be sure of your way.”
The snow’s so thick
And the ice so slick.
With your life you will surely pay.


-------


The swan boy is grace but the swan boy is cursed.
 
He descends from the sky as a great black shadow; a pegasus borne of sky and water.
 
The mirror waters had cried to him. They had been but a still, blot of ink and yet their voice was a waterfall’s roar within his ears. His approach, from the star strewn skies, had grown it into a puddle, then a pond and lastly into a great lake.
 
It lay so still… just a jagged piece of broken glass, silver sleek and so deeply black. Beneath the midnight moon it slept, so still so silent, but ever watchful.
 
It’s waters spy the swan boy land and laps forwards upon its shore, questioning, asking, chattering. It longed for the newcomer, for the recipient of its call. It coaxes him close and upon its surface paints him as elegant as any swan.
 
It calls to him again, watery fingers reaching, pulling. He heeds its call again, for who cannot? And eases himself into the water. He is the black shadow that shattering the glass yet more. Above the stars do blink to better see the shivering, rippling lake.
 
His swan wings, with feathers like knives in the night, arch over his spine. They are so large, so grand, and lure the eye as if forged of cathedral stone, held together by more than just magic – religion.
 
The breath of Hiemsterra, whispering ice that branches up his legs, melts away beneath the touch of this warm, warm lake. Upon his wings, hoar frost remains, proud and valiant against the warmth of Novus. Out and out they crawl, like spider webs spun by winter spiders of ice and snow.
 
Polunin, a silent ghost of swallowing black, drifts his way across the glassy lake and feels the bite of winter thaw.
 
A noise sounds upon the bank, it is another shape to stir the darkness. It draws his eye and arches his neck: chin to chest and eye unblinking. Still and quiet, he watches and waits. Obsidian lips pull tight, muzzle parting as his eyes begin to blaze, silver fierce and wildly black.  Lips part, as his ears fall back, with his coarse, coarse song of a hissing of breath.
 
Aggression is a whisper breath away and declares itself within another rattling hiss of the wild swan’s voice. How long he drifted upon the lake, no one is quite sure, least of all Polunin himself. But the sunlight has begun to crest, bright and brilliant, as he drifts toward the shore. His feet have just touched earth when a figure appears upon the bank.

@Reichenbach       And any others who wish to say hello!

[Rostislav]

I walk through the last bits of darkness on this summer's morning. I am a shadow in the darkness, while the neon green necklace around Damaris's neck practically illuminated the way. It's just the pair of us, and the nocturnal animals that are scurrying to their burrows, looking for their beds before the sun rises. My hooves walk the shoreline, and I ponder to myself how many times I've found myself at the Vitreus Lake, and why it is that I seem drawn to it. Denocte is a huge land and yet here I am again. Call it a patrol, call it meandering. The dew of the morning tickles my feathers, dampening them and my striped hooves as I stroll by the lakeside. Damaris wanders ahead, sniffing for breakfast I'd assume, though I haven't bothered to ask.

Look sharp - there's someone out in the water. I peer out ahead on the water, but my eyes are not as keen as Damaris's, and I only see darkness. Look for where the water does not reflect.. do you see now? He's moving out of the water onto the shore. She's not aggravated by my comparatively poor sight, and she's patient in trying to point out the stranger. As the winged creature steps from the water, my eyes latch on to the movement. The sun finally begins to crest on the horizon, casting the first rays of morning on all of us, and the deep black and stark white of the creature take form.

Damaris lets me take the lead, and I pick up a lazy trot to go greet the stranger. He's unfamiliar (I'd remember such a contrasting picture like his), and so he's either an intruder (visitor, to use kinder words) or someone new wishing to call this place home. Twenty feet away I halt, nares flaring with a snort, then inhale to take in the strange male scent. "Greetings, Comrade. What brings you to Denocte? I have not seen you before." Let the strangely marked creature introduce himself first, for he is the foreigner here, not I.

WC: 347
Tag: @Polunin
Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

x - x

[Seree]

They were lost amid the foliage surrounding the lake when it happened. A figure descending from the heavens, and the equine of dark hues simply tilted their head upwards, a low hum resonating from their chest as they watched the beautiful display of flight with an appreciative eye. A part of them always wondered what it would be like to soar above the lands, yet they were well aware that such a thing would never come to pass for them, and were hardly displeased with their life. It did not stop them from enjoying the spectacle of airborn men and beasts in any regard, however, and if anything only increased the enjoyment of the view.

They turned their gaze upwards from where they allowed themselves to nibble on the ends of a cattail, pulling the plant into their mouth and chewing contentedly as they watched before their gaze flicked back down to the ground, seeking out another plant to munch upon. They weren't the tastiest of morsels, but they were hungry and didn't feel like kicking up too much of a fuss when there was perfectly acceptable food right there in front of them.

They idly watched from their shaded cover behind the foliage as the strange pegasus took to the waters, seeming to relax into their embrace like how the other equine in the vicinity was quite calmly reclined upon the soft ground as they chewed. Their emerald hooves lay crossed before them, looking almost regal in their relaxed posture. Except there was nothing regal about them, save for the easy air of confidence about them, that was all they had to their name.

And it was that very same ease in their place in life that led them to only turn a curious eye, and a twitch of an interested ear at the arrival of another, one whose face was not yet known, but was distantly familiar as if seen at the edge of sight from a far distance. Their nostrils twitched lightly at the distinctive scent of Denocte which drifted silently towards them. Ah, another member of the Court. As of yet not one they had had the pleasure of meeting, but it seemed that was soon to change.

And yet, they allowed themselves to take only a deep breath as they swallowed their morsel, tongue mapping out the familiar patterns of their lips as they gave a soft sigh of contentment, watching as the unfamiliar member of the family approached the stranger unknown to them both.

"Greetings, Comrade. What brings you to Denocte? I have not seen you before."

Coupled with a snort, my my, someone seemed a little guarded. The equine allowed a small hint of a smile to quirk at their lips, no doubt the other was only doing his job, whatever such a thing may be, but it still amused some portion of them to see the man acting so suspiciously to one who had shown no intention of harm, and had only been enjoying the waters. Or perhaps not, the world was fickle that way.

...Except for the fact that it seemed the stranger had retaliated with a biting flare of aggression himself when confronted by a strange figure. Not exactly an unwarranted reaction to being so suddenly approached, but nonetheless...

Alas, men and their aggressive pride could be so troublesome.

Best to intervene before someone started throwing blows. (Most likely the water one from the looks of things.)

Giving a sigh loud enough to be heard, one of contentment only meant to announce their presence in an easy manner, the equine set about rising from their reclined posture, allowing themselves a moment after announcing their presence to stretch and display nothing short of relaxation and contentment, not an ounce of battle lining their figure as they stepped forwards to bring themselves to the water line.

They turned their head to take in the two as of yet unknown to them as they approached, walking calmly as they came closer and closer to the edge of the cool liquid. The halted only as their forehooves were enveloped in the delicate touch of the lake, and a soft smile broke upon their features.

Just large enough to expose a hint of teeth, they bowed their head in greeting to both and their eyes slid shut while they did so. They lifted their visage back up once more, eyes not quite half-lidded but speaking of an ease in countenance. They said not a thing, staying a respectful distance back from both so as not to intrude upon personal space nor make either feel threatened, but they only waited for the conversation to continue, not wishing to speak so rudely when a question had been asked and was waiting for a response.

@Polunin @Rostislav

OOC: Allow me to just slide on in here

[Rorschach]

Everyone watched, turning to the heavens with eyes too bright and curiosity brimming.  They would come from their shadows to stand and wait, and Rorschach did the same, standing just out of sight as the last remnants of moonlight gilded from the silver lake.  The black swan came with a flurry of wings, graceful and beautiful.  It was enough for her breath to stop for just a pause, caught in a moment of suspension as if she was afraid that the simple expelling of air would frighten him away.  But as she expels softly, Rorschach pushes away the fleeting thought, knowing that it was foolish to believe such things.  After all, he was on the mirrored lake, and she was the one in the treeline.  He would no more see her than the others.

She waits as the light begins to crest, lingering even as her shadows melt away and leave her exposed.  But the others… the others were more welcoming to the swan.  Rapier thin ears turned toward their muted conversation, and begrudgingly, she found herself taking a few steps closer, craning her ears to hear better.  It wouldn’t do for the mare to wander alone forever, she supposed.  With a quiet sigh, she took the last few steps to close the distance, sidling nearer to the group to hear what more the swan would say.

The second equine was quiet as well, and Rorschach spared it a glance before returning her focus back on the warrior stallion and his canine companion.  For the male was clearly a fighter, and one that she wasn’t familiar with.  It would be interesting to see what came next – whether this gathering would prove to be a friendly one, or of a deadlier nature.  Weighing whether or not to speak, she decided impulsively to clear her throat, and add.  Greetings strangers,  She addressed all three.  I am Rorschach.

∞

@Polunin, @Rostislav, @Seree

[Polunin]

‘Do not go into those woods,’ They say.
“You can never be sure of your way.”
The snow’s so thick
And the ice so slick.
With your life you will surely pay.


-------


He does not lessen the arch of his neck, nor ease the strain from his great wings.
 
Moonlit teeth click to join the clack of feet upon the lake’s shale shore. Like the hellhound dogging her companion’s steps, so the tide pushes forward to flank Polunin’s steps. The waters hiss over still sun-warm stone and the sound pulls another warning hiss from parted swan lips.
 
A tongue wets his crimson mouth that twitches and tenses and then pulls tight. It is a grimace that slashes across his mouth, lurid red. He makes no effort to move, those swan eyes the only part of him to turn, to watch. Starlight air, cool with the nearby water, sinks into his lungs as he drinks the air, deep and deeper still.
 
There, playing across his tongue, was the stranger’s smell. It is a taste of velvet black and glimmering stars. But suddenly there is more, a bitterness, a bite as sharp as pointed teeth across his ebony tongue.
 
Canine.
 
His head tosses upon his arched neck, whip fast and whip sharp to better rid the smell from his senses. But oh the hellhound is still there and her presence sets his amber eyes to blaze, a vow to consume, like fire across grass.
 
His ears do not stir from where they remain pinned to his skull. They do not lift in welcome or acknowledgement. Not even as his muscles itch and his neck at last extends out, serpentine and savage, to snap a warning bite into the crisp midnight air.
 
Only then does he draw back to let an ember eye fall upon the hellhound’s companion. “I have come,” He begins in a voice as coarse as stone. “Because there is no ice here.” Indeed, only a line of branching frost still lingers along his spine, a final siren’s call to his Winter Court. The rest is melted away, consumed by the body of the lake. “I have come because my vow to a queen is complete and I am my own servant now.” It is both more and less than the stranger likely ever wanted to know, yet Polunin delivers the words with the arrogance of a prideful swan.
 
Shadows, once still, begin to shift. They draw Polunin’s eye, alert, wary but oh so fierce. From those shifting shadows a creature is birthed, darkness melting from their body like mist before the dawn sun. They approach and he watches, even as they enter the water and it rises to meet them. A wing snaps out, long and elegant, a knife drawn in a silent, sharp warning, as his eyes smolder across the curve of their soft, soft smile. His gaze would linger there, were it not for a third creature that also births from the darkness.
 
She comes in haunting white, a wraith that drifts through the ethereal night. The girl was tentative and slow, no rush, no haste about her. Wariness is in the graceful step of each frost-white limb. She is dusk light across untouched snow and her body beckons the fire of his eyes to burn ever hotter. Distaste gives way to anger in his breast and if it is a wing he holds like a knife towards Seree, it is nothing compared the violent inferno he wishes to inflict upon this girl of ice.
 
“That is close enough.” He says to her as she comes closer, her greeting disregarded for the displeasure of her presence.  The demon mark upon his neck burns with frost-fire so fierce a chill splinters through his skin. Content only when the wraith girl stops a distance from him, Polunin’s eyes finally leave her. They fly across the lake’s border and out to the lands that stretch far, far beyond,  casting themselves before shadowed mountains.
 
“Denocte.” He says at last, not sparing a glance at the small gathering about him. “These lands are linked with the Night Court then.” He says softly, his indifference a smother upon the amiable greetings of the trio. “Where is the Dusk Court?”
 
The swan says nothing of Veteris, nor his old Winter Court and its young prince Rannveig had set him to watch over. Instead, when no responses to his questions come, his eyes descend the mountains, sweeping back to settle upon the trio.
 
“Well?” He asks of them with a snap of crimson lips and a proud, arched neck.

@Rostislav @Seree @Rorschach - well, what a pleasure he is! Sorry guys xDD

[Rostislav]

Before the graceful stallion reacts to my greeting, two others have approached. The first one is silent, adding nothing to the conversation but a silent greeting. I spare a glance to watch its antlered crown dip. I give silence to meet the silence. The second one to appear is a striped woman of ivory and what seems to be ebony in this dark night. She reminds me slightly of Weir, or rather a combination of the two of them would remind me of Weir - the stripes, the antlers. It doesn't take a lot to distract you with thoughts of that mare. Damaris teases me gently. I ignore her jest as the newest arrival greets our gathering and announces herself as Rorschach. I tip my head ever so slightly then return my attention to the stallion. It is between he and the second beast as to which one holds my curiosity the most. His disdain is obvious and he snaps when we don't immediately respond to his question. I feel a wariness growing within me.

"Perhaps you are lost, stranger." My voice is harder now than my original greeting. I throw a glance at the other two to hint that my statement might include them as well. "You are correct that this is Denocte. Terrastella is west." My gaze matches my voice now, hard and challenging. Who is this presumptuous stranger who acts like the earth he walks on is blessed? Damaris seems to agree and growls softly but menacingly at the stallion.

I turn my gaze again toward the other two. "Rorschach and.. your name would be nice. Are you members of the Night Court? Or are you also lost?" I snort softly, addressing them with a gentler tone, for neither of them have been so rude or arrogant.

WC: 299
Tag: @Seree @Polunin @Rorschach
Rosti thoughts | Rosti speech | Damaris mindspeak

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

x - x

[Seree]

Seree Quyi was no stranger to aggression.

When you are born in the Day Court, especially when you flat out refuse to be involved in combat in any way, shape, or form. The face and manner of aggression is hardly anything new by any means. As such, when a wing like a knife snapped out with a hint of blood-thirst in its posture, the dark equine gave no more response than necessitated by the flicker of an ear.

Their smile stayed in place, their posture remained easy. They met the gaze that lingered on them with little fear, the only quickening of their heart the natural response of momentary startlement to the sudden movement, but even that was quickly fading. They did not step back nor show any hesitation, nor did they step forwards to meet the aggression with more violence of their own. Only the soft sound of their breaths and the eyes that met the gaze any sign that they were not lost in their own head, or that they were even there at all.

Said head did turn with curiosity when a combination of senses met them. The sound of approach and the sight of the aggressor's head turning to look at the place from which the sounds came. They followed the turn with their own eyes, said orbs brightening at seeing a newcomer adding to the slowly growing gathering.

And this one seemed... amicable.

"Greetings strangers, I am Rorschach."

Very much so.

"Perhaps you are lost, stranger."

More so than some of the others.

The horse of dark hues did not bother to hide the subtle changes in their expression, far from obvious in the darkness of the night, the darkness of their face, and the way everyone seemed to be looking elsewhere than them.

The way their mouth turned to a flat set, the way emerald eyes could not be restrained from rolling to the heavens as the males seemed to do little other than snap at each other and puff out their chests, even though they had only been speaking for a handful of seconds. Honestly, they had only just met. True, the one in the water had started it, but the other was responding instead of trying to defuse the tension.

Boys.

But as one of the stand-offish males looked to them, and inquired of them, they gave an answer. It would be rude not to, no? And at least he wasn't snapping at them now as well.

They did not move forwards towards any, only turning in the place they stood to better face the one who asked of them. They bowed their head with eyes closed for a moment, a greeting, before allowing the emerald gaze to be opened once more, sparkle re-ignited as they brought a smile back to their lips with ease.

"Seree, Seree Quyi. I am of Night, yes, far from lost, I dare say."

They paused, tilting their head, before raising a hoof to gesture for him to continue the conversation in turn.

"And I make the assumption from your questions that you yourself are of the Night Court, but I'm afraid I do not know your name."

Their smile grew, something like a pleasant trill of a giggle in the back of their throat.

"Care to rectify this great tragedy?"\

@Rostislav @Polunin @Rorschach

OOC: *runs in a month late with starbucks*