[P] goodbye my santa monica dream

[Seraphina]

YOU'RE GONE BUT YOU'RE ON MY MIND
I'm lost but I don't know why

--

Midday sent Seraphina fluttering to the Oasis for shelter; in the midst of summer, the heat was so thick and dry that she felt as though her skin could melt off and her tongue went numb and rasping between her teeth. It was still not particularly cool amongst the lush greenery that surrounded the glistening turquoise of the Oasis, but the heat was at the very least bearable, and the sweet promise of water was enough to keep her moving forward, weaving between the trunks bent heavy with fruit in a stream of glistening, sweaty silver, like polished mercury. The rigidness that had marked her strides since the teryr hunt, much as she tried to hide it, had largely dissipated in the weeks that followed, and the scars that writhed along her sides were just that – scars, growing fainter by the day. Every day she felt better, more like herself, but no less at home in her skin and no more content with her new title. Failure seemed to constantly be grasping at her, nipping at her throat like a dog hungry for her flesh and blood, and she worried to breathe. She feared it in a way that she didn’t fear anything and had never feared anything before; in the past, it didn’t hold any weight at all. Now…now it held too much.


The waves parted before her gleaming silver hooves, droplets clinging to her fur and mingling with salty sweat; as she strode out into the water, cool depths brushing against the curve of her stomach, she dipped her head to drink deeply of the turquoise sky, swallowing the reflections of cloud and sun in one smooth gulp and leaving little more than a cascade of ripples in their wake. When she had drunk her fill and her stomach hung clunking and waterlogged between her legs, she returned to the bank, comfortably nauseas – too much too quickly, but she was so thirsty in this heat. She returned to the flickering shadows of the date palms, closing her eyes and leaning up against the rough, plated bark. Still dripping with cold water, the heat was quite relaxing, like stepping into a hot bath, and she had to admit that the sensation was more soothing than she would have liked. Seraphina needed to work, to meet with more of her court and more of the other courts and learn, but the socialization frightened her more than anything. (She had never been known for her tact or social graces.)


She stared up at the rows of dates that hung in thick clumps above her head, swallowing down a sigh. She would have to seek out the most powerful members of the other courts and get to know them, and, even more than that, get to know more of her own court – if she had expected this change in regime to mean a return to her routine, she was sadly quite wrong. Nonetheless, she wanted this more than anything she could remember wanting in her life, and she was determined to do her best work, if only because she was supposed to.


…Five minutes. In five minutes, she’d return to the court and the archives. For now, she would appreciate the day.

@

@Vadim <3

[Vadim]

Solitude was Vadim's frequent companion these days, though of late he had begun to meet a few of his fellow Day Court members.  Still, when he wasn't needed at the Court he stayed far from it's walls, drifting in the Mors Desert that reminded him so much of his home.  The thing he missed the most, perhaps, were the salt flats that gleamed white under the sun, cracked and hard.  Just after an infrequent rain the flats would shine like a mirror of the heavens and the whole herd (the few of them there were), would race across it and revel in the novelty and beauty of it.  

What mirror was there here, to bring the sky to them?  He supposed there was less need for it in a place where some equines were blessed with the wings of birds to reach the heavens themselves.  Such windwalkers had become his envy on days when he was close to court and saw them here and there.  So again today found him in the desert.  He lashed out with hooves to the brilliant sky, throwing his head down towards the sand.  It was a primal set of movements, learned from his youth, and practiced now to the chanting of words in his own mind.  His breath kept time in harsh exhalations and deep inhales, filling his lungs with the wind that brought life.  Eventually the story- and his dance- came to an end.  He stopped, panting, and his thoughts turned towards the cool water of the oasis.  If he could find it again.  But Vadim was a desert horse in his blood and in his bones.  He stepped off purposefully, in the direction he recalled the oasis being.  It wasn't long before his wide nostrils caught the scent of trees and water.

Moments of travelling beneath the hot sand dried the sweat on his coat to an itchy white crust in his joints and he paused once or twice in his easy walk to ease the itch.  His pace picked up when the mirage-like vision of the trees came into view and by the time he got to them he was moving at a trot.  Like a stray beam of sunlight he plunged through the shadows and straight into the still water in a less than graceful splash.  It was only after he had plunged his head beneath the water and flung it skyward again to scatter the drops did he realize that he wasn't the only one to enjoy the oasis today.  It was not really that secret to Solterrans after all.  It was the heart of their home.

His pale blue eyes settled on the silver mare, equal parts sheepish and good natured.  "Apologies, I should have realized someone else would be here.  Did I splash you?"  He left the water with a little more grace and care than he'd entered and stood dripping on the sand, looking almost tail-less as he was maneless, all the pale strands sodden and twisted together.

@Seraphina

[Seraphina]

YOU'RE GONE BUT YOU'RE ON MY MIND
I'm lost but I don't know why

--

To keep herself from falling asleep, tucked in the midst of hot wind and shade, Seraphina began to file through what she remembered of the hundreds of pages of history that she’d been studying for the past few weeks, trying to recite each useless treatise (useless because most of the current sovereigns were foreign, and most of the treatises had long ago been forgotten or disobeyed) and long-winded diatribe or inspiring speech with something akin to accuracy. Her peace was not long for this world, however; she found herself tugged abruptly from her musings by a spray of cold water, soaking her chest and throat. Seraphina took as step back, mismatched eyes blinking open to sudden brightness and brilliant gold, half-glaring in the light. As her eyes came into focus, she realized that she was staring at a rather sheepish-looking golden stallion – Solis, he was bright. Pale gold, but metallic bright, nearly blinding in the light of the sun. His face was white as new-fallen snow, his eyes brilliant blue as winter ice, and he lacked a mane, though Seraphina thought that she caught glimpse of a hint of starspun white tail, nearly obscured from her view. He was a delicate, graceful creature, built for speed and endurance rather than the heat and violence of battle, more beautiful than violent; and perhaps that was for the best, even in a nation of warriors, for his eyes held a gentility unbefitting of a warhorse.


She’d seen him once or twice in passing, but never long enough to learn his name; inwardly, she cursed herself, because she’d always kept up with the Day Court’s citizens in the past. He was a sage – of that, she was somewhat certain. But he’d asked her a question. “You did,” She drawled, thick accent of the day court seeping into her every syllable, with that bizarre, dry calm that gave away absolutely nothing of her emotional state (she could be boiling over or sobbing, and you’d never know) and a dip of her elegant silver head, “but the heat makes it difficult to complain.” If Seraphina were a creature better-versed in social interaction, this might have been the point where she would offer him a well-meaning half-smile or at least a curl of her lips, but her expression showed nothing at all. “You are one of the sages, correct? I am Seraphina, w- the Emissary of the Day Court.” She nearly stumbles over her title, (It still felt wrong on her tongue, a foreign substance.) but her gaze continued to linger on the golden boy, never removing itself from his frigid blue eyes.

@

@Vadim <3

[Vadim]

He could not tell if she was angry with him or not.  He study her body language, her face, the tone of her voice, even her choice of words but none of it seemed to indicate any emotional response.  Still, the line of his body relaxed a touch.  He assumed it meant that she was unperturbed by his antics.  He was a little surprised to see another silver-hued equine in Solterra though he supposed grey was not so terribly uncommon a color.  And certainly it was not as ostentatious as Maxence's white a chestnut coat.  Still, he'd never seen anyone marked quite like she was and it caught his curiosity.  Like crests of foam on a moon-silvered sea.  

"Yes, I'm Vadim, though I don't really know that I'm much of a sage yet.  I saw you at the meeting where you were appointed."  He recalls now the mercury mare standing at the front of the hall, granted her title by the lion's roar.  "I'm glad to meet you.  Do you spend much time with the other courts then?  What are they like?"  

His body and face were animated, actively displaying his eagerness for information and his attentive observation.  His sodden tail slapped wetly against his legs as it flicked back and forth but already the dry desert heat was beginning to dry the water from his thin hide.  The evaporation chilled him, calling a shiver to his skin that he took little notice of.  The sun was warm enough and the change of temperature was refreshing after the heat of the day.  He isn't uncomfortable under her observation at all, returning it easily without much thought.  

@Seraphina

[Seraphina]

YOU'RE GONE BUT YOU'RE ON MY MIND
I'm lost but I don't know why

--

When she didn’t snap at him, he seemed to relax just a hair – to Seraphina, he seemed a gentle thing, an ill-suited for Solterra. Not for his build, which seemed in fact optimized for the desert heat, but, rather, for his goodness. That was it. He was older than her, but he felt so much younger and livelier, brimming with an enthusiasm and eagerness that was so foreign to her as to be nearly unrecognizable, without serious contemplation. She observed him neutrally, and offered a dip of her head to his in a mixture of greeting and acknowledgement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Vadim.” It was impossible to discern whether or not the mare actually considered it a good thing, for no sign of pleasure was evident in her expression or her words.


She was somewhat taken aback by the sudden enthusiasm in his expression and posture as he asked her if she’d travelled and about the other courts – she considered him dryly, mismatched eyes narrowing a fraction, then offered, “I’ve travelled in the past, though I have spent most of my time as Emissary recovering from the battle with the teryr so far. I hope to spend more time engaging with the other courts in the future, of course.” That much wasn’t a lie. Seraphina had more than a bit of wanderlust, and it was her job, which she was determined to do as well as possible, besides. “What are the other courts like? Well, Dawn…Delumine is soft and lush. Imagine a sea of wild, verdant green that stretches from horizon to horizon, meadows and forests that seem to go on endlessly. In the warmer parts of the year, you can find every sort of flower imaginable. The people of the Dawn Court are stereotyped as wise intellectuals – of course, you can’t imagine any court adheres to its stereotypes perfectly, but they do tend to reflect its politics. Dusk…Terrastella is immensely variant, with jagged, rocky ocean crags on one border that extend into meadows and marshlands as you proceed toward its depths. Volatility to radiant beauty and comfort. The people of the Dusk Court are typically considered kind and immensely protective of their own, but reserved. And Night…” She paused momentarily, considering the prisoner currently locked in their dungeons. It seemed entirely possible that they could soon be at war with the Night Court.


“Denocte is difficult to breach – it is surrounded on all sides by the Arma Mountains, and they are massive and treacherous. Imagine jagged teeth disappearing up into the clouds, virtually devoid of shelter and riddled with narrow paths. The heart of Denocte is pleasant; full of prairieland, with one massive, beautiful lake, like a mirror of the sky. The people of the Night Court are often misfits and outcasts, adhering to no one characteristic.” Satisfied enough with her explanation, she eyed him, resisting the urge to sigh – she had a feeling that her words would only inspire more questions. “Is there anything in particular you would like to know?”

@

@Vadim <3

[Vadim]

His ears fall back a touch when she speaks of her injury, concern briefly flitting across his features as he studies her more closely.  Has he made a mistake, to ask her such thing?  But then she speaks again and his ears perk, listening attentively as she describes something of the other courts.  It is not much more than he didn't already know but he listens all the same.  It is surprisingly hard to imagine some of the places she describes despite the fact that his mind as talented at pursuing wild flights of fancy.  But so much green and growth and lushness seems unsustainable.  It is difficult to picture and believe that such a place is real, even though he has passed through such lushness in his travels.  He can imagine a brief burst of life, the way the desert can suddenly becomes bright with flowers and new growth after a rainstorm but such life is very quickly gone.  

He also notes when she pauses at Denocte.  This court perhaps holds his greatest interest- and some familiarity.  He has not been but he wishes to see it, from all the stories he has heard of it's people it would be a treasure trove of lore and song and theater.  This things entrance and entice him.  There has been so little joy in Solterra.  When she is finished, he thinks.  It is perhaps the first quiet moment he shares with her, thoughts turned inwards as he dissects the information given and his thoughts choose a path to pursue.  

"What is Solterra's standing with those courts?"  He finally asks.  Though he does not still, much of his eager energy seems to have been concentrated down, refined.  Finally given direction his mind leaps forward along one path, drawing upon what he has heard and what he has observed to compare it to the information she shares.

@Seraphina

[Seraphina]

YOU'RE GONE BUT YOU'RE ON MY MIND
I'm lost but I don't know why

--

Seraphina seemed to mull over his question, considering her words for what felt like a long time. She did have the court’s image to consider, after all. Finally, she proceeded : “We’ve had little interaction with Dawn; they provided us materials for the garden, but our standing is largely neutral, as they are courteous and peaceful by nature. We are attempting to form an alliance with Dusk, and I believe that it is progressing…as smoothly as one might expect.” As smoothly as one might expect given near-constant interference from some of Solterra’s more blistering mouths – and she counted their sovereign in that equation, though she reasoned that he, too, was attempting to progress talks with Terrastella. (Maxence was simply a blunt man.) She’d covered two of the courts, but it was all she could do to hold back a grimace when it came time to speak of Denocte.

“Night…we have always had a strained relationship with Denocte. We were at war for many years, throughout my childhood. Our previous Sovereign, Zolin…he was a warmonger, and he was content to send his people to war for his amusement – we withered beneath his rule and ran our resources thin fighting in his stead while he hoarded what little we had in his palace to satisfy his own greed. None among us were free from the grasp of his war.” The statements she made were clinical and cold, as though she hadn’t a stake of her own in the war, as though she hadn’t fought in it when she was nothing more than a child. It hadn’t even been particularly long since Zolin’s death, but she already spoke of it as though it was a thing of the past. (She did not mention the current source of tension, kept prisoner in the dungeon below the Keep.) “It is the only reason why I have seen as much of Denocte as I have,” She added, just in case he was wondering how she described the lands in such flowering detail.

“I can’t help but notice that your accent is foreign, Vadim,” Seraphina questioned, hoping to change the subject – though she was genuinely curious as well. “From where do you hail? You seem accustomed to the desert.”

@

@Vadim sorry this took so long! <3

[Vadim]

He was a little surprised that an alliance was in progress with Dusk- or with anyone for that matter, given the general attitudes of those he'd met.  Vadim knew so little of the other courts that he could not make a reasonable call if it was a good idea or a bad idea, but he leaned on the side of 'good'.  Alliances were powerful tools, even the smallest.  He had been a little afraid that isolationism and hostility would rule the political dealings of the court he had joined with so little knowledge.  The news about Denocte was dissappointing.  Perhaps it would be better to be cautious about venturing into the Night Court.  His curiousity was little curbed by caution,  but he would remember the information none the less.  That, and the history of his new home.  It put some of the interactions he'd had and some of the things he had seen a little more into perspective.

"Thank you- that clarifies a lot of things."  His thanks were genuine, though he couldn't shake the faintly troubled look that haunted his expression as he considered his past interactions with members of the Day Court in light of their history.  Perhaps it didn't change all of them, but certainly many of the current members had been here during that time.  It was on the tip of his tongue to mention his meeting with the Night King and the invitation extended- after all, she of all people would know if it was a poor idea to go.  Her question banished the thought from his mind, buried instead by surprise and memories.  

"I am from Veter- it is a small country, quite a distance from here."  He felt strangely shy, speaking about his home.  It was so much less in some ways than this place.  It held no vast wealth or military importance.  His gaze dropped from the silver mare to study the now still water of the oasis.  "It is a desert as well, though a little different then Solterra.  It is somewhat like the Mors, with salt plains hidden between the dunes like valleys between mountains.  The nights are colder, and the wind rarely ceases to blow.  After the rare rain, the salt plains shine like mirrors.  They reflected the sky so clearly that running across them was like running upon the air."

It was an effort to curb his language, to not wax long about places missed.  He did still miss them, though perhaps he missed the stories more.  Long nights spent pressed close to ward off the chill, passing stories from one to another like some people passed drink.  "It's a hard place, but I think the people are softer.  They don't fight if they can help it- there is so little to go around that it makes more sense to work together than to be divided."

He heard the words fall from his lips and he wondered how long he had thought of them as separate from him.  How long had he acknowledged that they weren't his people anymore?  

@Seraphina - No worries!  <3

[Seraphina]

YOU'RE GONE BUT YOU'RE ON MY MIND
I'm lost but I don't know why

--

Seraphina inclined her head slightly at his first comment, blinking. “Clarifies?” Had he encountered someone from Denocte, then? (She supposed it could just have easily been court gossip – Solterran animosity, or tension, or something distinctly in-between ran deep, and it felt like she rarely went a day without hearing of it anymore. Perhaps this was just the first time she’d really bothered to listen.) She supposed that it didn’t really matter one way or another, but she was a bit curious as to what Vadim made of the tension - and what she’d clarified to begin with. He was an outsider by birth, and, therefore, far more distant from the conflicted relationship between the nations than she. There was value in views that came from the outside looking in, and, now that her work was more diplomatic in nature, it was her job to actively seek new opinions.

Her ears twitched forward to stand alert as he described the land that he had once called home. “Your home sounds beautiful,” Came her quiet response, and she meant it – from all her years spent in desert sands, though different from those he described, she could almost see the lands that he described in her mind’s eye. At his next remark, she offered a small nod. “I wish I could say that was the case her – unfortunately, in my experience, the scarce resources and harsh climate of Solterra have resulted in more factionalism and combat than cooperation.” A bitter truth, but a truth nevertheless. To her, Solterra had always felt much like a rubber band about to be abruptly snapped. It would be far more productive, she imagined, if cooperation overpowered conflict, which quick tempers always bred. “Perhaps that is changing, though.” Her lips curled slightly in some semblance of a bitter smile. “After all, I have only ever experienced Solterra under the rule of a madman.” Though, she supposed, Maxence hadn’t been in power long enough to determine exactly what she thought of him, Seraphina was reasonably sure that he was no Zolin – perhaps he was just as rash and volatile, however, and she didn’t want to consider where that could lead them.

@

@Vadim - agh, sorry these replies are so infrequent. I'm trying to finish some of Sera's older threads, considering how much has happened in the past...week,
so, if you're alright with it, I'm probably going to try and wrap this up in the next post or so. <3