[AW] my tired white flag

[Israfel]

I'm only honest when it rains,
An open book with a torn out page,
And my ink's run out.
I want to love you but I don't know how.

He wasn’t there.

It was a steady mantra, a repeating litany of jumbled mess that just didn’t make sense, echoing in her skull and bouncing around the sides of a mind numb with disbelief. By the time that she had reluctantly turned her back on Delumine, disappointed, subdued, angry, late-winter had begun and the Sun Daughter had nearly wasted an entire season looking for him.

Yet he wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he there? What had happened?

Spite had kept her from seeking out Delumine’s new flower-king, or anyone else of their court. For all of their knowledge, they could not provide her with the answers she sought. Israfel had situated herself in their little homestead holed up in the forests and spent weeks searching for Ulric, but her efforts had been fruitless.

Rage and exhaustion intermingled when golden hooves touched down in Terrastella, her chest heaving as her body sagged in the snow, the alabaster of her coat stained grey with rivulets of sweat. She hadn’t stopped, a fire burning hot and dangerous in her breast that wouldn’t permit her to along her journey home. Anger replaced sleep, heartache replaced food and water. It was not the first time that Israfel had lived off of spite alone and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

Pulling her wings close as though to shield herself from the stark chill of winter's grasp, the Regent of Terrastella straightened on unsteady, trembling legs. Vermilion eyes burned as they stared out across the landscape, the stone citadel of the Capitol looming just on the cusp of the horizon. It was close. The winding streets of her home diverged around her and she knew their paths like she knew her own heartbeat. Being here upon these familiar cobblestone lanes was familiar and she welcomed its familiarity without question.

All thoughts of him were shoved back into the darkest parts of her mind, and with a great, heaving puff of air that emerged like mist from flaring nostrils, Israfel started the slow, unsteady trek towards the citadel, desperately yearning for her private rooms and a hot drink.

’I’m home,’ she whispered in her mind, and even through their mental bond Israfel knew that Solaris would pick up on her exhaustion. It wouldn’t be long until the Phoenix had returned to her side, as she had left Solaris here to keep an eye on Charlie, the court, and to keep the homefires burning.

Gentle concern entered her mind like a lover’s sweet kiss, and bleary vermilion eyes blinked slowly in response. Solaris’ crisp, curt voice filled her mind only a second later, the concern growing tenfold as the Phoenix felt her fatigue. I’m on my way. Warm yourself, child.

Another puff of breath escaped her and Israfel nodded even though her companion wasn’t there to see it. “I need a fucking drink.” And preferably a hot body to share it with.

"Speaking."

credits

Anyone is welcome and encouraged to help Israfel unwind from a Bad Time! :D

[Theodosia]

let our eyes show the 
fire in our hearts tonight

It had been Mehrab who had alerted her to the Regent’s approach, his ‘voice’ drawling out within her mind -- always matter-of-fact but with just a touch of cocksure, confident that his blessing could reach the receiver in time. He was a recent addition to the soldiers, and one she was grateful for, even if she wouldn’t voice the thought out loud -- he already had enough of an ego as it was about his usefulness.

Her stride lengthened, catching up to the Regent in enough time to hear the grumbled words.

“I see that,” The now-warden drawled out slightly, but there was warmth behind the teasing words, behind the pale eyes that caught onto the Regent’s exhaustion quickly. How could she not worry, when Israfel’s exhausted, lonely return meant that Ulric was still missing from Delumine, that Charlie was still growing up without her father there to see every milestone, that Israfel was yet still unsettled?

She doesn’t need to ask something so trite as ‘any luck,’ not when the answer is in the slump of the ex-warden’s wings, in the dark moons stamped under her eyes. Instead, she simply falls into step beside the taller mare, close enough that the feathers of their wings just barely brush, and uses her body to direct Israfel’s path towards the nearest back-alley bar with decent enough alcohol to help stave off a broken heart.

(Or so she’d heard, at least. She definitely hadn’t done quite a bite of research into which bars were good for that at her worst of times, when her magic had still been a fresh wound in her soul.)

“C’mon, it’s my turn to buy, isn’t it?”

credits

@Israfel

[Israfel]

I'm only honest when it rains,
An open book with a torn out page,
And my ink's run out.
I want to love you but I don't know how.

Honestly, Israfel didn’t give a shit about Vespera. She had witnessed the goddess’ disregard first hand, watching them flounder and flail in a time of dangerous madness… But as Theodosia found her along her defeated traipse into the capital, with her pelt of alabaster and lavender eyes of somber understanding, Israfel sent up a silent prayer in gratitude that it was the Warden and not someone else, someone who wouldnt understand.

’Vespera… Thanks for not being a complete bitch.’

“I think it is. You’re a fucking lifesaver, Theo.”

The Regent offered no complaint as Theodosia fell into step with her and gently steered her in the right direction of the closest seedy, run down, back alley watering hole. They moved in tandem, their similar heights, builds, and bodies moving as one, shoulders bumping and wings brushing with simple touches that did wonders to ground Israfel’s wayward thoughts.

Surely he had not left of his own volition. She refused to believe it.

Arriving at the unassuming wooden door that would lead into the pub, Israfel took the initiative needed and shouldered it open. The threshold would only accommodate one horse at a time and so she sashayed through, allowing a flick of her tail in Theodosia’s direction in a playful sort of manner. Catching the door with a hind hoof, the Regent held it open for her Warden to pass through.

’Her’ Warden. Hmm. If that line of thinking wasn’t a slippery slope to Fuck-Up Ville, Israfel didn’t know what was.

Only when Theodosia had passed through the threshold and entered the tavern did she allow the door to swing closed. Already there were a number of patrons nestled in the low-lit interior, the general din and hubbub of voices dying down as curious eyes swung around to face whoever had entered. Perhaps there would be rumors on the morrow why the Regent and Warden of Terrastella had entered a back-alley pub together, but they could get fucked. Israfel didn’t care for them, nor did she care for rumors. Not right now, at least. Somewhere in the back, a bard of a horse was strumming a few notes on a lute, and soon enough the general voices of conversing patrons picked up once more as everyone returned to their own business.

“C’mon.” Together, Israfel now guided Theodosia up to the bar, where the proprietor arched a brow at the two of them as the Regent leaned against the bar of pock-marked, stained wood. “Whiskey, please. And make it a double.” And when the glass was set in front of her, Israfel wasted no time in downing it in one go, relishing the way that it burned her tongue and throat, warming her from the inside out.

Fucking hell.

With their drinks served, a second quickly placed in front of the Regent, Israfel turned her piercing crimson stare into the alabaster face of the Warden, unable to catch Theo’s knowing, far too keen lavender eyes. Her brows narrowed, lips curling downwards in a contemplative frown before she spoke. “... How fares things here? Sorry I was gone for so long. I didn’t anticipate it taking that fucking long.”

"Speaking."

credits

@Theodosia

[Elena]

every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean

"Stars bring you out tonight? They're... They're somethin' tonight.”

The palomino felt guilty for leaving Lilli, her family, but Altair, now Altair was his own special kind of guilt that plagued Elena when she thought about him for too long. Maybe, in the end, it was Altair that she should have been with, but she brushes him off with the ease that a butterfly flaps its wings. She knows this now, that she had been wrong to do such a thing, but in the moment, Elena had thought she knew what her heart wanted. Though, she thinks back on it now, her head may have gotten in the way more than she would have liked. Her parents had made it look so easy, their love, but Elena, being young and foolish, had failed to notice that love comes in many different forms. It is a snowflake, no two relationships are the same.

Oh, Elena could vouch for that now. How different Aerwir had been, Underworld, Tunnel. All of them unique, each of them poisoning her in their own way. She knows this now, but she some how still thinks they held the antidote for her, keeping it tucked away in their pockets. Doesn't this make it worse? That they had willingly destroyed her while having the cure all along, but refusing to give it to her, content to watch her suffer? But Elena thinks, at least they cared enough to have it, even if they didn't offer it.

Elena is smart.
I never said she was wise.

Especially when it comes to men, but then again, hasn't every woman done something rash and bit mad for love?

Elena finds herself in the capital once more, her feet growing accustomed to the streets of Terrastella, the way it feels underneath her. Though, still the girl in gold and gossamer has hardly had the chance to explore every nook and cranny that this new land has to offer her. She spends a lot of her time in the hospital, learning and practicing, collecting supplies. Elena has always been a healer, a strong need to soothe another’s pain. Perhaps, that is why she has adjusted to Dusk so quickly, with a prupose provided to her, Elena is able to find her steps, her rhythm, her purpose. It is this that has given her comfort, this and her frequency visits to the shore where if she stares out long and hard enough, Elena believes she can see the outline of Beqanna not too far off and her friends standing on the shore across miles of ocean.

Today Elena has traded the sound of the ocean waves for thrumming of the city. Elena gazes around at the sights that are offered to her. There are so many rushing about and interacting. There is the laughter of someone having just told a joke, the quite wine of a child unable to get the treat they wanted, and the sound of whispers as today’s gossip spreads from loose lips. Despite the overwhelming sensation that comes with a populated space, Elena still manages to find some semblance of peace throughout it all.

Elena turns down an alleyway. There are folks entering into an older looking spot, maybe something of interest would be worth her venturing. Elena follows another into the bar, unaware of what this place actually was. Elena still has such an innocence to her, despite the scars on her body that tell otherwise.

She is truck by her. Glacial blues are immediately drawn to the woman that looks like the sun incarnated. Immediately, Elena thinks of another she had known where the same thoughts had come to mind. Kensa. It all comes rushing to her, Kensa, Hyaline, Pangea, the rocky cliffs and the diplomatic trips. Kensa had been radiant, she had been confident, she had been a good leader, but it hadn't been enough to make Elena stay.

The palomino is moving towards the pair before she can stop herself, she hasn't even entirely realized that she has just stepped into a bar, she is lost in nostalgia for a time when she was in Hyaline and Lilli in Taiga and their worlds, though not simple, were effortless. “Hi,” she says when she reaches them, now all entirely too aware she has just interrupted. “Sorry, Im not quite sure what Im doing here, I don't even really know where here is,” she says then, blue eyes looking to her surroundings. She turns to Israfel now. “You just looked like a friend of mine, again, sorry,” she says sheepishly, gaze cast downwards in apology. “I am still new to Dusk, I’m Elena.”



* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.

Hope you don't mind Elena crashing the party <3

@Israfel @Theodosia