He didn't expect a warm welcome anywhere - first of all - one had to have a good reputation to be well-received. Only felt as though he was only capable of upsetting everyone he interacted with in one way or another. Today (he hoped) would be different than most days. Today (he prayed) would bring him more success than failure at meeting - and communicating - with strangers who may or may not benefit off of the things he wished to bring. Under the tumbling wave of golden hair he carried poorly woven baskets full of things he had found along the way. Somethings useful, others not so much, but he would learn that Solterra was in need of seeds and medicines for their people who chose to stay in the desert and to their luck - he happened to have an abundant surplus of such things.
Only, unlike Stephan, desired a life without conflict. Despite Stephan's ever-constant toxic agendas, today Only would try to prove that he could be worth something better - that he could be a part of something bigger. Traveling everywhere and staying nowhere had given him a wide panoramic of Novus - and while others considered him to nothing more than a shift in the wind, they suspected him. What they suspected him of - no one could really say, all they could say is that he made them feel uneasy. Uneasy or not, he hoped to find a stranger that might be less wary of him - he longed for a conversation that didn't center around how new and strange he was to Novus. They were all new and strange at some point, weren't they?
Somewhere along the way - it had become apparent that there was a desert in the middle of all of this variant land that he had travelled and inside of all that sand and rock was a band of horses that regarded that land as the Day Court, Solterra. Fitting, Only decided without much else thought about the Solterrans aside from what might benefit them with his arrival.
His own wares might be of some use to them if they hadn't found it already for themselves, if they had not or were simply in need of it - perhaps he could adjust his good karma by sharing what he had in his baskets. He'd have to keep his distance, of course, because in his travels he had learned that the boundaries between Delumine and Solterra existed here in the Mors desert, between the forest and the sand.
And so, with higher hopes than last time, the stranger awaited someone, anyone.
.only si vis pacem para bellum
There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
For many are called but few are chosen.
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
She walks westward, away from the courts in their less-than-ideal standard, and toward the empty, lonely desert. The court itself will need repairing and reconstruction. The Mors Desert, however, needs no help from the mortal quadrupeds that dare to wander through it. It remains its own force of nature, content in its existence before, during, and after the inhabitants. Her previously wounded leg moves stiffly, but is sound underneath her. The sand dips and parts beneath her dark and golden hooves, as if bending to her will. Her gold eyes glimmer as she takes in the landscape before her. There's no particular reason to wander into the wasteland except to see what's around, who might be around. To learn, explore, observe.
At first her wandering is aimless.. but soon on the bright horizon she sees a dark figure much like her own - minus wings. Dark, a similar size. And.. golden hair. Perhaps this is another one of Solis's treasured children? She approaches, picking up a just-off trot to greet (or investigate) the stranger. She stops not far from him, only a few years, and dust rises up around him. Her golden eyes search out his golden-green ones, her crown lifting higher.
The baskets (poorly constructed though they are) make him an interesting sight, certainly unique. "Welcome to Solterra." There's a barely perceptible edge to her sultry voice, and she tilts her head to gesture to his baskets before she speaks again. "What brings you to the desert? And, if I might ask, what do you carry?" Anything invasive or destructive would HAVE to go. Her nares flare slightly, searching for the scent beyond that of "male." The refreshing, dewy scent of Delumine meets her nostrils. And why, she wonders, would the Dawn Court send someone here?
A life without conflict-- we've given up on that so long ago its hard to even remember wanting it.
(isn't that who you are? Your wants and dreams paving the path behind you?)
He's settled instead for seeking a people to share the conflict with. Better to die before your time, fighting for something that gives you meaning-
(the word makes him cringe, he is ashamed at wanting something so base-- meaning is nothing more than desire spun from air)
-than old, alone, and insane. The first two appeal to him, the third does not. Anyway, that is how he ended up in Solterra, unwittingly surrounded by perhaps the most fickle and cantankerous creatures in Novus. He came for the company and certainly not to be surrounded by four walls at all times, and so he is most often found at the periphery of the kingdom, seeking his answers in the vast, mostly barren stretches of sand and rock.
Over the next dune he sees the tips of black wing tips, first walking then trotting forward. It would not be the oddest mirage he's seen in these sands, but there is something about the vision that seems more firmly tethered to reality. He walks to the top of the dune to see the black priestess and a stranger with baskets-- an unusual sight in the desert he's begun to think of as his alone.
Eik glances to the horizon. They are the only ones as far as he can see, although this is by no means the highest dune he stands on. His attention returns to the two before him as he descends the small dune to join them. The scarred stallion nods to Inkheart in acknowlegement and turns to the newcomer. There is no suspicion in his features or demeanor, simply a calm curiousity. "Hello traveler." It is all he says, for Inkheart has spoken enough for the two of them.
Inkheart's arrival is to be expected and Only almost looks like he is waiting for her at the boundaries. His eyes - gold and green as autumn leaves, shake like leaves - as she comes closer and closer. As much as he anticipates her he fears her (he fears everybody right now) and with good reason. He'll never tell her why there is a shiver that runs through his body or why he feels cold in the desert. Maybe it isn't him, maybe it is Stephan that feels cold (he is bloodless, after all). As Inkheart settles in the sand so close he can see the black barbs of every feather in her wings, he feels him tremble.
Disgusting, something mutters inside him - not because of Inkheart but because of himself. Only stands up straight as she speaks, her eyes trained on his baskets but his eyes are trained on her face.
"Hello." One solitary word and he hopes it is enough to cement his position - here - where he stands in the stand. She welcomes him and it is all that he needs but his eyes look past her (they are always looking away - around - inside of places and things) - Eik crests the dunes and makes his way down. The wind carries information about both of these strangers and when the breeze ruffles the back of his neck he exchanges his own information in return.
And then the million dollar question is asked, Only tries his best not to stammer. The approach of Eik makes it harder to form the words as tries to remember the answer to her question. He practiced this or at least he thought he had. His mouth opens but no words come out - only dust, he's been sucking it in for miles.
"I-I heard..." What did he hear again?
"Well - "
Hello Traveller. Eik makes his landing and greets him as gently as a morning sunrise and all it does is turn his tongue to sandpaper in his mouth. Something torments him on the inside, his eyes twinkle as Stephan rains fire down onto his weak - weak mind. What tragedy can he create here? What problem can he make for Only to get him running again? How many holes can he smoke the wormy boy out of before he has no where to run and hide?
How long will it take for Only's resolve to weaken, wither-out, and eventually die?
"I-I don't mean any harm here - I've brought things that could help your people. Seeds, medicines, herbs...I've collected them all in my baskets here. I am from Delumine but I'm not going back, I don't know where I am going to be honest. My name is Only."
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
The stranger manages only a hello at first, the only strength he can muster. At least that's what she guesses, because he can barely bring himself to speak, and when he does it is but a stammer. She has half a mind to mock him, to curse his weakness at being unable to even speak for himself. But before she says anything, they are interrupted. Behind her another approaches, his scent male and also Solterran, but almost with a cool crispness to it. She spares him only a glance as he pulls up a short space away from her. Her golden eyes recognize him from the last herd meeting, but beyond that she knows nothing about her. 'Hello traveler.' Well he's diplomatic - whether that's a good or bad thing she has yet to decide. She turns her attention away from him to the intruder.
He quivers under her stalwart and demanding gaze. Something festers in those golden-green eyes, but what? Perhaps it is simple anxiety. The poor thing despite his apparent beauty seems underfed, malnourished. Not completely a lost cause, but needing more fat and muscle. What is this festering? Her eyes narrow as he stammers on, having found a shred of confidence. Part of her listens, processing his words, and part of her watches closely to find some confirmation of what her paranoid mind has begun to suspect. All she's seen is a stammering fool with a strange look - but it is enough to get her senses tingling. "Only." Her voice murmurs his name, tasting it. Lost. Harmless. Good intentions with gifts to prove it. Does the devil not often come in such guises? His demons sent, often so innocent in appearance, to lure mortals? And still, no evidence. She glances at the pale Solterran next to her. Does he see -- sense -- what she does?
"I am Inkheart. You have entered the land of Solterra. Upon entering you are bound by the rule and law of Solterra." She says nothing of his offering, his gift. Before anything else proceeds she wants to make sure he knows what will happen henceforth.
There is some struggle on the man's face. It soon after creeps into his voice but Eik sees it first, and it reminds him of his dreams. Dreams in which he finds his family, but as he gets closer their faces become distorted, subtly at first but by the end of the dream their flesh is melting, dripping off their bones. White and red dreams that follow him into his waking life.
(You could call them nightmares.)
While the sight makes him a bit uncomfortable, he is not afraid of the man and his basket of things. The only thing he has to lose now is life itself, and it would not be much of a pity for that to be lost. Then again, the thought of dying for these fickle debutantes strokes an old fire in him that he thought was gone (ironically, in the literal flames of his past) ((but save that for another time-- let's not mix metaphors)). No, he will not die today, not for these fools.
Eik believes the man, despite his nervousness and stammer. The dark mare beside him (he glances to her wings, gracefully tucked to her side. he thinks of her flying low across the desert and the millions of grains of sand that would dance beneath her) seems nervous, uptight. He thinks back to her prayers and wonders what it is that she fears here, beneath the harsh blaze of her Dear God.
He wonders. The brighter the light, the stronger the shadow.
Inkheart talks about rules and laws, and he ponders lines drawn in sand and the many words that sculpt these people. And the eagerness of children to be told what to do, how to think. There seems to be some procedure that she is following, so he listens closely, scraping what meaning he can from what she says- and also what she doesn't say. He feels no need to press the agenda forward, although he is curious about what the man brings- and what it is he wants in return.
There is one thing that catches his attention, and seems unrelated enough to Inkheart's structured diplomacy that he feels he can ask the question without drawing away from the political undertones of the encounter. (and breathe.)
Of course there were rules. Where there were rules there were laws. Where there were laws there would always be two types of people: People that eat, drink, and breathe the rules, and then those who used them to wipe their ass after taking a satisfying shit. Trying to maintain a stable life by balancing between right and wrong was not easy for Only - he always felt like the harder he tried to be good the deeper shit he would actually end up being in. At the end of the day Only's intentions would always be made in good faith - but he would always second-guess them and that was because Stephan was making a lot of decisions that Only wasn't aware of making.
"Well okay," he said to Inkheart. Stephan wanted to challenge her - to push her back in the sand and snap at her - to force her to read the constitution to him from memory if she cared about the rules so much, but he didn't. He didn't because Only just wanted to be accepted - Only wanted to slide in under the radar as cleanly as possible. He wanted to make as little waves as possible with these strangers. Most importantly, he wanted them to like him - to trust him -
Stephan laughed, -that is not possible.
Eik was asking him why he left wherever it was that he had come from and Only struggled to remember.
"I don't believe that peace can be achieved by discussing best sellers at book club. I don't believe that Delumine will make good choices in their future if they have no plans."
Stephan wanted to applaud Only for how calm and cool he was at speaking to them so forwardly about his newfound origins inside of Novus. Before here, he existed no where and everywhere all at the same time - before that he was a part of the stars - but for all that silver and luster, it was awfully lonely. The stars didn't speak - didn't think - didn't do. They just burned and burned like campfire light until they run out of fuel - and then they went away.
"I don't think I am a good fit - I like to steal a lot. I like to fight too - all for the right reasons of course...
--and it isn't like I do it for free, so there's never a threat unless there's a deal made first." He knew was not a good fit. Stephan had laughed forever when they woke up in Delumine after the Rift imploded and took everyone - everything - with it. "Please tell me that the rules don't involve me reading a book once a week and turning a report in about how I feel about it."
A pause happened then, a hiccup, as if Only was a record on a record player playing the same steady tune only to have his needle lifted and put down onto something entirely different. The subtleties of Stephan hiding beneath the pathetic guise of Only glittered - flickered - flashed like fish in muddy pond water. "Are you a religious girl, Inkheart? " His question was eerie enough that when he turned to look at Eik it could be suspect that the creature he was now was not the creature he had been moments ago.
"And you - do you even know this girl?" He wondered because that is all Stephan could do was ask incredibly strange questions that pertained to nothing in particular.
The pale and scarred stallion next to her remains silent while Only speaks, while she speaks. She wonders what his purpose is, or if perhaps the only thing he is good for is greeting and observing. The black maiden ignores him, except to briefly acknowledge his question to the traveler. It briefly occurs to her that this is actually a very good question to ask. After all, though it may seem flippant and irrelevant, knowing the cause for his departure is much like asking why one has left a job: was there a problem with Only living there? Did he leave of his own volition, or was he forced out? Why. She does not let on that the thought has entered her mind. Perhaps her fellow Solterran is more useful than she thought.
Only continues to appear much more confident than when he had first spoken to her. He readily accepts the warning she gives, and then continues to answer the stallion's question without hesitation. Calm and clear. And it's a good answer. Why remain in a stagnant nation? After all, isn't that what Maxence is trying to achieve in gathering them all together - to bring Solterra out of stagnancy, improve the land, and make them a force to be reckoned with? The last might have not been explicitly stated as such, but it was heavily implied.
But then he admits to liking to steal and fight. The fighting is fine - that's a huge part of Solterra's core - but the stealing will be less accepted. More of the rules. For her part, Inkheart does not mind stealing so much. Sure it is a crime, but not one that is so truly evil. His begging to not be told to write book reports causes a small laugh to slip past her lips from pure amusement. That's really what she ought to be doing - pouring over the books. And yet here she is.
The laugh dies when suddenly Only asks if she is a religious girl. This question would never have bothered her if asked by anyone else, in any other circumstance. It's not the question, but the timing and the way he asks it that bother her so much. The golden-green eyes seem to have changed again, but not back to the cautious and trembling stranger he had been. Her muscles tighten throughout her body, but otherwise she shows no signs of suspicion or discomfort. Is there really a demon inside of Only that recognizes her spirituality, her connection with the light of Solis? She must maintain the façade.
"I am a religious woman." She may only be four, but she had left childhood long ago. She does not ask him why he poses the question, nor does she ask why he asks the next question of her companion. Her suspicion continues to deepen, and though she cannot give a logical answer as to why Only has aroused such distrust, she cannot shake the feeling.
Words twist and curl like a river. Snakelike. All for the right reasons of course--
And what would those be?
He knew once, or at least had the illusion of knowing. Before there was color to the world, when it all was nothing more than letters huddled in groups on paper. Before he stepped from the page and realized there was another dimension, a whole new plane, and on it the words twisted like eels washed onshore.
The stranger is becoming harder and harder for the scarred grey to figure out. A thief and a fighter, with both morals and a price, bringing healing herbs to the heart of the desert. "And how is it you think peace is achieved?" He is genuinely intrigued by the man's response and what it may reveal about him.
The conversation turns and he finds himself leaning in to the priestess' laugh, pleasantly surprised by the sound. How abruptly it stops, and how odd a question to trigger it. His right ear flicks. It is then his turn for a question, which he takes a moment to answer.
He is thinking of the tone in Only's voice and how different it sounds from the man who was stammering just moments ago. And in turn he thinks of the many faces each man wears, and how similar they all are, different in a myriad of tiny ways-- but what if they were truly different, and if they were, how would you know which one was you?
Time's up. "I know this is no girl."" It is the closest thing to an answer the stranger will get. Eik's eyes crinkle in amusement, but a tense feeling has invaded their little gathering. He casually takes a step away from Inkheart, widening the angle between them with Only at the pivot point. He does not intend to threaten the man, it is simply instinct. He has learned a thing or two from watching the wolf pack.
(You slippery thing. You'd wash yourself away like water if you could. Oh the things you would do if you could. If: two letters with a world inside them. but we all have worlds inside of ourselves, or isn't that the dream)
He is the sort of man who lives by his own rules, carefully carved from his values, but he would hate to make a promise he could not keep. So he chooses his next words carefully. "My name is Eik. Lets see what you have." There is still a gentleness to his voice, despite the heavy feeling in the air. "Perhaps you may stay here as a guest in exchange for your gifts." He's found that the rules here chafe with his sense of... common sense, and he looks to Inkheart, unsure of the protocol in this situation. A small smile, humorless, and he continues to hold her gaze as though communicating to her without words, even while he speaks. "Granted they are not poisons."
It is not really in his nature to be suspicious, but... ... well, you know.
Their answers are fair - just like their treatment of him - and Stephan flounders on what to do next with Only holding him on a leash so tight his neck cracks when he pulls on it. Tension has flooded the small and meager gathering of strangers and with Stephan defecting back to silence it leaves Only with the mop and bucket to clean up where he can. Calmly he sinks back into his own skin and assesses his situation, when Eik continues on Only gives a soft sigh and nods to him.
"I would like to stay." Clarity finds him. His eyes are sharper-yet when it isn't Stephan using them. Only's eyes flicker between both of their faces as he wonders which of the two is more skeptical. Perhaps it is the religious woman -- but Eik asks more questions - and so he continues to wonder as he weaves his webs.
"Peacefully, of course."
All hostilities put aside for the sake of finding a roof over his head - Only lifts the baskets off of his shoulders with practiced ease and sets them down. The items he pulls are bagged, tagged, and itemized as if he's gone shopping for them but - as it turns out - he's done it for their own safety.
"Unfortunately for you Eik, I have brought poison along with an antidote if there is an accident. You shouldn't be so unprepared in a desert." Vials marked with warnings are turned over to Inkheart - somehow Only thinks she'll feel safest if they are left in her care and not his while other sachets of seeds and sprouts are offered to Eik. "This isn't enough to feed an entire colony but it is something and more can be brought. Winter is coming - everything has gone to seed."
He wonders then, when will they ask him 'Why?' or 'What is all of this for?' and he worries - he worries because he doesn't have an answer to this random act of kindness.
"All I ask is for sanctuary and that you don't ask me why. Nobody knows I am here - and nobody will come looking for me either. But may I ask - why are you so wary of outsiders?"
ooc: We can end this thread if you guys want. I'm so sorry I checked out for a hard minute on this thread. Only just wants to crash in Day and see if it's his kind of people. I love you guys and I'm sorry again.
.only si vis pacem para bellum
There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
For many are called but few are chosen.
