There was a hole in her heart, a pain that the fae wanted to escape. She had done it all. She was not where she should have been. She left her court to fall into ruin. All of those thoughts echoed through the chasm that now lingered where her heart had been. Lifting her head, cold eyes gazed at the beings around her. There was something that spoke of the unseelie princess within her. Her mane was bound up in a fierce updo, all of the color she usually flaunted hidden within the ebony swirl. Her tail was bound, once again hiding the colors. A black mare, her happiness hidden far under the chasm.
Even her legs were wrapped in black cloth, matching the cloak that she was wearing to obscure her wings. As if the impish being was now a wrath in the darkness. Fitting for where she was emotionally. The only bits that were visible and not liquid night were on her face, though the features that sported the white and green were frozen in aloof indifference.
This was the mare that stalked through the night markets. The mare that was seeking nothing but cool drink and the oblivion that came from too much of said poison. She was in pain, her heart feeling like it had been ripped from her chest. Alcohol seemed to dull the pain, help her through the days. She had not seen her cousin since their conversation. She didn’t want to. The guilt that she felt had dulled her acidic eyes, broken the impish spirit. Only her own vanity kept her coat and locks looking their best.
Finally finding a place that would serve her, Syn found a darkened corner to watch the beings as they went though their happy lives. There was pain in watching, though it was easier to watch than to try to take part. Sighing softly, she ordered a strong drink and let her worries fade under the buzz that washed through her.
@
"Speaking." Notes: This is after her conversation with Caelum about what happened at home.
There is a new knot of emotions that twists and coils within the boy’s heart as he begins to explore the Night Markets. They are not all unpleasant—in fact, there is a fair amount of wistful nostalgia that washes through him, his mind transported with memories of the streets of Caeleste’s great capitol as they bustled with life. He remembers wandering through the rows of vendors on many occasions, each merchant selling their wares, their items displayed proudly around carts and counters. Conversations would be lively as bartering was made, stories were told, and friends laughed about old times.
Old times. Times long gone. Times lost.
Fang had feared he would never experience such things again. The Terrors had eventually and definitively driven away any possibility of social gatherings or easy conversation. Who could worry about selling little trinkets when it was all they could do to simply survive? Each day was spent hiding from the shadows, and each night passed huddled for shelter, willing the ghostly screams to fade away.
He still hears their cries—they echo in his mind, they haunt his dreams. Seeing the Markets now, with the people mingling in a way that is so effortless and absent of fear (night comes, but they don’t hide), Fang finds himself tangled in both nostalgia and grief.
Shepherded into a corner by the push and pull of the crowd, Fang is lost in his thoughts when he’s suddenly aware that he has wandered much closer to a stranger than he would consciously. His large frame is standing right next to the dark mare, their shoulders nearly brushing—it is the warmth of her body that had jarred him to attention. Blinking, Fang quickly leans back to an appropriate distance, his head turning to meet the other’s viridian eyes with an apologetic grin. “There’s a lot to take in, isn’t there?” He offers after clearing his throat, hoping he doesn’t come off as awkward as he feels.
Syn glances up at the stallion, her eyes a maelstrom of emotions as she took in the market around her. "I suppose that is one way to put it. It seems that life attracts those that are in pain." She murmurs softly, giving him a soft smile before letting her gaze wander once agin.
"I wonder if any of them know what it is like to lose everything. To find out that your home is gone and none will celebrate your return." Once again, her words are soft and sorrowful. Shaking her head, she focused on the stallion and let her acidic gaze travel over his large form.
"I apologize. I seem to have dropped further into my wallowing than I had realized. I am Absynthe… Just Absynthe. Though many simply call me Syn." She introduces herself, faltering at her own name. There is a part of her that wants to cling to her surname. To cling to the idea that she was still loved and had a place where she belonged. And yet another part told her to give up and forget that she was ever the princess of the winter court.
@Fang
"Speaking." Notes: Don’t mind melancholy pain in the rear <3 She is usually so much happier and more fun
His ears perk at her initial words, recognizing her tone—weighted and weathered by pain—knowing it because his voice has borne the same. Better than death calling to them, he thinks to himself as the Terrors flash again through his mind, offering only a low hum as a response.
“I wonder if any of them know what it is like to lose everything.”
This statement comes unexpectedly, and it hits the stallion so pointedly that his eyes snap sharply to the dark mare as a chill crawls down the back of his neck. You too? His gaze questions her silently, a sudden desperation rippling along the edges of his expression. Sometimes his despair isolates him so much from the rest of the world, he often forgets that he is not alone in his suffering—not always, not entirely. “It is…impossible to explain. And even more futile for them to understand,” Fang murmurs when he is able to find words again. Truly, it is a pain one cannot fathom until you have been afflicted by it yourself.
Clearing his throat, he finds himself shaking his head at her apology—not to dismiss her remorse, but to reassure her that it is unnecessary. There should be no shame in heartache.
“No need to apologize, Syn,” his lips twist into something of a smile, “I, perhaps more than most, know how easy it is to be swallowed by grief.” The embers of his eyes drift for a moment, watching the crowd without really seeing them. He’s taken for a moment back to those final moments, surrounded by ash and shadow and death—he fears he will never escape the anguish that gnaws steadily at his heart.
Like someone has pricked him with a needle, he is hurdled back to the present, inhaling a trembling breath before he speaks again. “And with that pleasant introduction now out of the way…my name is Fang,” he chuckles humorlessly, lowering his head after a moment to meet the vivid gaze of the stranger. “I hurt too,” he purses his lips, because the words hadn’t sounded as lame in his mind as they do to his ears. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to forget about it? I can oblige either way,” the boy attempts a crooked grin, pressing his leathery wings closer to his sides, half expecting her to run him off in indignation.
There was something almost familiar about the stallion, not in that he was one she had met before, but in the feelings from him. Like he knew what she was speaking of in a way not many others might. Her acid eyes trained themselves on his features and she let a small smile cross her lips. His words made her nod. "I can definitely understand what you mean. My cousin just told me about what happened… at home… and things went badly to say the least." She murmured, unconsciously pressing closer to him.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Fang." She murmured, her voice going more husky as she let the pain fade to the back of her mind and tried to find pleasure in the world around her. Syn watched the denizens of the court as they went about their business.
"I wouldn’t be opposed with something more… distracting…" She murmured, still feeling terrible within her heart, but longing for something to make her feel better for at least a small time. She would never be the sweet mare that her cousin had once been. She was touched by darkness and prone to more impish behaviors. That was the joy of being a winter fae.
His heart aches for her, as it would for a comrade, a fellow soldier in arms against the battle that life has become. He cannot say what would be worse—having to witness and live through the destruction of your world, or having to hear about it from someone else and suddenly realize that there are places you’ll never see again, people whose touch is forever gone. To have to live with the images of everything burning to dust, or haunted by the what ifs, wondering if things would have been different if you had been there.
There is agony in all of it, a weight that is tethered like shackles to the heart and mind.
“I’m sorry,” is all the boy is able to offer, and the words are hardly that—more like a hum that whispers past his lips, a sound that requires no response. He knows it does nothing to alleviate her pain, and really he’s not trying to (he knows, from experience, that doing so is a formidable task that cannot be accomplished by one person alone), but knowing he is not abandoned in his grief is a small comfort that he hopes to share with her. One step at a time, right? One breath, even?
His lips pinch before they quirk slightly at her greeting (“A pleasure to meet you”), almost amused by the choice of words propriety has made a habit for them. I’m sure it is, he wants to quip back, but instead settles for a brief twinkle in his gaze. “The pleasure is mine,” Fang responds, something akin to dry laughter in his words, like laughing at an inside joke that no one understands but himself.
In any case, he is happy to accommodate her request—or try to, at least.
Once the life of a party, he isn’t sure how exciting his company is these dark days.
Nodding to himself, the red stallion gestures to the streets that bustle past their dark corner. “Well, I’m sure we can find something then. I have heard tales of the colorful Night Markets. Shall we?” His rounded ears perk forward, not quite understanding why he feels like he has to steel himself before wandering through the lines of vendors and merchants. It’s equally strange and familiar, and makes his heart twist with memories. “I’m not from here either. I’m fairly new to Denocte—to Novus, in fact,” Fang admits, if it wasn’t obvious already.
His apology was like a caress to her ravaged heart and she found herself smiling up at him. "While you dont need to apologize, I do appreciate the care. Most of the turmoil is likely my own fault, I tend to let emotions swamp me when I do not tread carefully." She answered with a soft laugh before shaking her head. The chaos around them was soothing to the fae, grounding her in the world around rather than the thoughts within.
This boy could be dangerous. His words sparkled with amusement, though she didn’t quite understand it. "I am sure I could make sure that the pleasure is yours." She quipped without thinking, her acid eyes glimmering. A moment of hesitation followed as she waited to see how he would react to her instinctual words.
Syn nodded and stepped beside him, unconsciously using his larger frame as a buffer between her slight figure and those that were milling about. "I can understand that. I have only been in Novus for a limited time as well. The markets are usually bustling with life and a place to find just about anything your heart desires. I dont get out too often, preferring to be more nomadic." Not that she really wanted to be alone. Syn was terrified of letting others in and giving them the chance to see her for who she truly was. But it was easy enough to play up her mask and protect herself. She was rarely completely honest with anyone. Only Reinhart and Savannah knew her completely and truly. Even Caelum was distanced thanks to the chaos of time.
Fang finds himself blurting the words out before he can hold them back, a reflex that is directed as much to himself as it is to the dark mare. He certainly doesn’t regret his statement, but he is immediately embarrassed by the outburst, afraid he has countered her with too much force. He hadn’t meant to be defensive. “I mean…it’s important to feel, you know?” He attempts to correct himself, licking his lips and swallowing past the sudden constricting of his throat. “As painful as it can be, I’ve learned that it’s much better if you acknowledge what you’re feeling instead of trying to bury and forget about it. You don’t want to drown forever though. It’s a fine line, I suppose,” the stallion shrugs his shoulders self-consciously, not trying to mark himself as omniscient on the subject.
He has many flaws, and is still learning, but he would like to think that he has gained something from the challenges life has seen fit to bruise him with. Bruise, pummel, and beat. Perhaps not all knowledge is good knowledge (where is the carefree boy, whose smile was bright and laughter came easy?) but Fang is only trying to help, not lecture her.
Swallowing again, he exhales as his fiery eyes glance over the lively street. There is a flicker of a smirk that ghosts along his lips at her spirited retort, but not much more—the allusion of her words is lost on him, truly, and he is far too distracted to notice her hesitation. His gaze is drawn back to her vivid eyes when she reveals she has not been in Novus long either, leading a nomadic life now, which he can understand. Before he had found a home with Vasanta, Fang had largely been a migrant himself; even still, he prefers the freedom of the wilds to the hustle of city life.
Perhaps that is why he must steel himself before stepping forward, casting a crooked grin to Syn. “I haven’t explored the Markets yet—not properly at least. Shall we?” He keeps his leathery wings pressed close to his sides, the only sign of any tension while his ember gaze roams curiously over the counter of a vendor, admiring the intricate artworks. Suddenly his head rises, rounded ears erect. “There’s music nearby. Follow me,” his smile is more genuine now, a thrill of excitement he hasn’t felt in too long tingling down his spine. Using his larger frame to navigate through the crowds, he chases the melody of strumming instruments, glancing over his shoulder to check that Syn is following close behind.
All at once, the street opens into a square, and the pair finds themselves among those gathered around a circle of people dancing. He watches them, caught up in the beat of the music, appreciating their gaiety (night is here, but there are no Horrors to haunt them, no monsters to chase them into the shadows). The relief is exhilarating. “Do you enjoy dancing?” Fang asks his company, looking down to her with bright eyes.
Syn gazes up at him with a soft smile. "That seems to be a battle I fight regularly. Trying to understand what I am feeling without drowning under the pressure. Being one that is more commonly found alone, it is pleasant to have someone that I can speak to. She said warmly, some of the mask falling away. Not that she was ready to let him in fully. She barely knew the stallion and at this point she only had 3 that she was willing to be completely herself with.
There was something about this stallion that intrigued her, something that pulled her along as he mentioned hearing music. She found herself prancing beside him, using the dancing steps to keep up with him. Her side pressed to his randomly as they moved, the heat from his flesh warming her. As they passed a small house centered within the market, she found her eyes glancing over to check if everything was still as she had left it. She was careful not to point it out, still afraid of any knowing where she resided. Only Savannah had been able to find it and she was proud of that small fact.
His bright eyes made her beam, her own acid pools glittering as she nodded. "I love to dance. Are you certain you can keep up?" She responded, teasing him gently as she tugged on his mane with her teeth to pull him into the throng. The feeling of the beat danced through her veins, almost as addictive as a strong drug. As she began to dance, she let the worries fall away and showed him her true self. At her core, she was fae. And that was the part of her that finally showed it’s impish side. She let the music speak to her and moved in time. Sparkling dust drifted fro her wings, making the air around them glitter.
He is delighted when Syn follows him eagerly towards the music, seeming to be as excited as he is by the promise of a distraction from their heavy hearts—something carefree and lively. His eyes are bright as he watches the people dancing in the square, the embers of his gaze roaming over the crowd and to the collection of musicians that serenade them, offering a rhythm that thrums from his hooves and into his bones. The joy of those gathered is infectious.
There is already a hint of a smile on the stallion’s lips when the dark mare answers his question, a whimsical thing that broadens when she goes on to voice her own query. “Not certain at all,” he responds playfully, clearly having every intention in trying to keep up despite his two left feet. Laughing softly, Fang allows her to pull him forward to join the twisting crowd, weaving between the moving bodies until they settle into their own place to dance. He doesn’t know the steps—if there are any—but in times like this, he has never been one to care. He is enjoying himself, he is having fun, and he revels in the elation of tasting his old self again.
Looking to his dance partner, it appears that she is experiencing the same. She has let loose, her ebony cloak falling aside to reveal delicate fairy wings that flutter and shine. “You have wings?!” The boy can’t help but exclaim in surprise, laughter in his voice as his eyes widen at the sight. More than anything, Fang is alarmed by his complete ignorance to their existence before now.
“Sorry, I feel foolish for not noticing sooner,” he chuckles and shakes his head at himself, “You know, you’re the second woman I’ve met to have wings like that since coming to Novus! I don’t suppose you’re fae as well?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning her casually and continuing in the same thought, noting how the rhythm becomes her. “Do all fae like to dance?” He smiles, wondering if Caelum would enjoy something like this as well.
