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Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 06-27-2016
The Clovenheart Above, the night stretched on. In the thick woods Ashamin could not see the stars; even this small bit further south, he could not see the Aurora. It was hard to tell himself that he didn't miss anything about the Aurora Basin, and so he did not. It simply wasn't true. He missed the chill of the wind at night—the chill of the wind in the afternoon, almost always just as biting. He missed the pine forest where he had met Zandora, and the hot springs that had provided comfort to so many. Ashamin even missed Deimos. There had been something heartbreaking about saying such a short goodbye to the reaper. There had been something strange about how they'd never really talked about their moment of almost death. And the Clovenheart could not forget what the herd had taught him, how it had watched him change. The Aurora Basin, though, had not changed. Somehow, Ashamin the Clovenheart did not think it ever would. It was an ironic twist, a wicked thing for the herd guarded by Time's Lord and God to be forever frozen in it. Now, in an unfamiliar night but far from the burdens of static, Ashamin snorted and walked on. His companions wove around him, sometimes in front of but more often behind him. Occasionally Rakt summoned tenuous spirits and urged them to press their starlit coats to Ashamin's sides, but the Clovenheart was neither appreciative nor amused. After one or two more times of having his steps quickened he flashed his neck back and snapped his teeth at The Blood. No, he was not brimming with patience that night. His walk took him away from his current of frustration (his puzzling gift from the Moon Goddess) but no closer to the sky he so craved. He was walking away from the Blood Falls and, vaguely, towards Helovia's heart but had not made much progress at all with his companions tripping him up. But no, he needed to get to the Heart eventually, for it was there that he thought he'd once before seen the words carved into his antlers. Was there really any other way to decipher them but go to the source? Maybe, if he had thought back far enough, he would realize that it was not a helovian language at all but rather one from his own homeland—one etched into the trees by the rutting deer that had watched over him in twilight. For now, though, the knowledge was still lost to him and his senses were dulled. So dulled that he didn't even notice there was someone else in the Falls' woods. "Talk?" ashamin, lochan, & rakt RE: Phantom Limb - Phantom - 06-28-2016
RE: Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 06-29-2016
The Clovenheart Ashamin didn't expect her, either. How could he? She was a distant memory, a figment from a time when he was something else entirely. When Ashamin had met her he had been weak--afraid of the wolves in the woods and fiercely denying he needed assistance until it became impossible to do so. Now, so much later, he was surprised to find that she actually existed. Phantom was someone Ashamin had not forgotten but thought that maybe he had dreamed. She had existed in passing, and though he remembered reaching forth to offer her his touch, he couldn't remember her touching him back. Had she passed through him, or never been there at all? Her appearance again, now, either meant that she was real or he was haunted. The Clovenheart wasn't sure which possibility was more likely. He certainly had much to be haunted by, and perhaps the spectre of a figure from his past was some sort of emotional trigger, a reminder that he was no longer the innocent stag he'd once been. No, now he had killed, in some way at least, and he was stained with the blood of a god. Phantom had never seen him like this; would she ever seem him as he had been, again? And if she did, he had to hold onto her. Ashamin's dark eyes grew wide and frenzied, and he chilled. His body was stuck, his figure frozen in something like fear. It was more desperation, though. If Phantom thought of him as that young colt, that warm thing, then he needed her by him. He needed someone who remembered the kindness that had once possessed him entirely, before it had been tarnished by the twin swords of rage and blood. "I never thought I'd see you again," he said in awe when at last he could move his lips. And he didn't know why that was, why he had expected her to die out like the last vestiges of his innocence, but it was true. Perhaps he didn't think he deserved to. He would have remained silent for longer, would have stared eternally, if not for Lochan. The little eye scraped his remaining antler along his bonded's flank, urging him to step forward, and so Ashamin did. He offered his cheek as before but felt strange--shy, as if her presence returned him to who he was. But no, it wasn't so. His voice was deeper, his pelt riddled with subtle and gaping scars alike. "How have you fared, Phantom?" the Clovenheart asked then, if only because he knew not what else he could say. "" ashamin, lochan, & rakt RE: Phantom Limb - Phantom - 06-30-2016
RE: Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 07-07-2016
The Clovenheart I'm here now. She was, of course, as taciturn as ever. The clovenheart did not spare a frown on her tone, nor did he expect something softer out of the mare. Just because he had changed didn't mean he expected others to do the same, even if it might advance them. And she was right, after all; she was here now. Ashamin supposed that, after all that he'd been through, that was really what matters. Perhaps all this time when he'd been training and reinventing himself--some days as someone better, some days as someone worse--Phantom had been right there, barely moving between distant planes. In all that time Ashamin had been putting himself at the center of attention, Phantom had been operating liminally, staying just out of sight. Maybe she'd been smarter that way--better off, at least. Ashamin snorted when she referenced his two companions, and found himself shaken out of the contemplation of their differences. "Those" looked up at her, Lochan with his eyes wide and watching, Rakt with his gold stones narrowed and almost cutting. Neither appreciated being referred to so bluntly. "These are my companions, Lochan and Rakt," Ashamin said with his cheek still bare and awaiting her touch. He flickered his gaze from one to the other as he spoke their names; "they are cerndyr, though both wildly different in character." His long tail curled and slapped the earth when he went silent, if only so that he would not have to suffer through quiet with her. Rakt, sensing Ashamin's unease, lowed faintly and irritably. When Phantom accepted his greeting Ashamin was visibly relieved. His shoulders, which he had not realized were tensed, relaxed. His neck contracted and lifted as his head returned to face her fully and from farther away. She had been cold, her skin not so much unwelcome as it was unexpected. She'd almost felt dead. "I've been better than I might seem," the Clovenheart countered quickly, a bit of confidence flaring up. "I've earned these scars fighting kings and gods, and I've won far more times than I've lost. I don't consider that to be faring ill," he said to clarify. He was proud of what he'd done, for the most part anyway. He'd earned no visible scars from his more cruel encounters, they haunted him in other ways. Ways like dreams of dead children at night, crying out in a rhythm that matched a heartbeat. Like echoes of taunts in his head. Like the inability to look his own reflection without watching dismay fall across his features. "But I'm glad to hear you're well, all the same. Have you left the Basin as well? I hadn't seen you there for some time, when I said my last goodbyes," Ashamin said abruptly, trying to change the subject in his own head. He looked out over the woods with dark eyes, and swiveled his large ears to hear the distant crashing of the blood falls. Anything to distract, to forget, to hide from his own mistakes. "" ashamin, lochan, & rakt RE: Phantom Limb - Phantom - 07-08-2016
RE: Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 07-12-2016
The Clovenheart When Phantom told Ashamin that he had changed, he wasn't surprised. He may have been thick about some things, but even he knew he was different. When Ashamin had first arrived at the borders he wouldn't have had the guts to step into the battlefield, let alone the skill to win. He knew enough of the Gods now to know that they needn't be worshipped, for their own immortal talents were enough to amuse themselves. But Ashamin knew, too, that they could be killed, and that their pride could be injured by the mere force of mortals. That, if nothing else, was valuable knowledge. Had the Clovenheart been thinking about his failures, too, he would have remembered how he had shattered friendships with Zandora and Ki'irha, and the earthen mare that had led his morality astray. But these were not thoughts to be preoccupied with in the company of an old friend, even if she wasn't a particularly friendly one. "I can't say the same of you," the Clovenheart told her frankly. What good would it be to lie? Besides, he liked her the way she always was. And it was good to know that not everything was so easily impressed upon by the world--that some remained stalwart in their convictions and ways, even if all that meant was staying standoffish. "But, Phantom, I should hope you will consider that a compliment," Ashamin added with a sigh and a half smile. It was as if his body knew he needed to prepare for what was coming next. When the mare told him of the Aurora Basin's invasion he bristled. It wasn't something he'd ever heard of, or at least not in such detail. His very tail stiffened, which was awkward looking given its absurd length. The thing, ugly as it was regardless of its position, looked best when hanging limp. Limp like the bodies of the dead slain, apparently, by his herdmates. "I'm... sorry, I never knew. That was before my time. It's amazing how well the Basin can keep its dirty secrets hidden, even from their own haruspex," Ashamin said with a frown as he remembered Rikyn's racist diatribe. Accepting Zahra in the herd had been his way of forcing it to move forward, but the fact that it was rooted in such a foul past had been disappointing in the first place, to say the least. As for why he had left... He struggled with that idea himself, especially given the family he had left behind. Still, the painted buck would have to come up with an answer. Worried they would hear again the same spiel, his two companions turned and wandered away, still staying close but distancing themselves from Ashamin. "I left to forge my own path. The herd wanted a version of me that no longer existed, and they wanted that... past self to tend their wounds most when I was struggling unnoticed." He looked after his companions, not sure what Phantom would think, before adding in an honest joke: "well, that and I was sick of the Spark God's... shit." He would have chuckled then if his mind weren't so preoccupied with Phantom's talk of war--would have laughed if it weren't all so true. Still, though, it felt strange to curse so quickly like that. He swallowed his tongue for a moment before clearing his throat, and nickering kindly. "Rhea, she left the Basin as well. The two of us are gathering a group of outcasts whom we can trust to be loyal, and we're trying to learn from each other. If you'd like, Phantom, you could join us," Ashamin offered without really thinking. He knew he would need to meet again with Rhea soon, and he had a feeling the two mares' similar personalities would be interesting to see in a clearing together. But as for Phantom alone? Well, he didn't know if she would want to learn. Maybe she wouldn't even want to teach. Maybe she would desire no loyalties other than her own. Still, the Clovenheart wanted the ghost on his side. "" ashamin, lochan, & rakt RE: Phantom Limb - Phantom - 07-17-2016
RE: Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 07-18-2016
The Clovenheart Phantom unexpectedly asked more complex questions than most. She was not a mare to mince words, and conversations held with her were far from empty as a result. Ashamin found himself searching himself for better answers than the ones he might offer up to others in passing. It was not that Phantom meant more to him than others with whom he talked, but simply that he didn't expect her to believe anything but the complete truth. As if he could lie to anyone but himself. "After a certain amount of time living by someone else's word, whether that be a God or a Lord, I don't think anyone likes who they become," Ashamin decided upon, letting the statement answer both of her questions before leaving the matter at that. Her interest in his offer to join the Unbound was more familiar territory, and he selfishly took the opportunity to tread upon it. "We learn and we teach, but no, that is not our sole purpose. The idea was borne out of a desire to maintain independence while still being able to have loyalty for those that chose to count themselves among us. And since Rhea and I are both warriors of some sort, we value one's ability to defend themselves and their allies using whatever skills they possess, on or off the battlefield," Ashamin explained. He could not picture Phantom physically fighting tooth and nail for what she believed in, but he had no doubt that she could maneuver her way around any situation to make herself heard. That perseverance was valued. "" ashamin, lochan, & rakt RE: Phantom Limb - Phantom - 07-21-2016
RE: Phantom Limb - Ashamin - 07-26-2016
The Clovenheart Ashamin nodded when she explained that she shared his motives for changing his ways, for leaving behind one life for another. There was a soft, shared moment of quiet compassion that followed. Phantom had asked questions, questions Ashamin knew the answer to, but it was more important to him that silence rest between them for its due time. Absence had its own things to say, its own contributions. Though many would accuse the Clovenheart of being overly talkative and employing rather purple speech, he knew, too, when to let the air overtake his voice. The silence was solemnity, a memorial for things lost. And whether Phantom understood that to be his intention, that was how he felt. Ashamin waited a few more moments before looking back up at her, before truly considering the wise points she had risen. Yes, if Phantom agreed it would certainly be good to have a questioning but reasoned soul like hers around. "Part of my vision, anyway, is to help those new to this land. Many visit the threshold with only the sole purpose of growing their herd’s numbers, but given that the Unbound live outside of this structure we need not do the same. I…" he paused again, considering who he was before. At this his two companions adopted a sort of quizzical expression, for neither had known him in his weakest time. "Well, you know how I was. I arrived in this land scared and alone, and knowing little of its intricacies. Not all who join the Unbound or follow us deeper into Helovia stay with us," Ashamin said, thinking of Ryouta and Hasovir. "We serve as teachers to others outside our numbers, as ambassadors. We forge allies across helovia, even with those who do not bear our name," Ashamin explained, his brow furrowing as he realized that the Unbound was, in many ways, a larger thing than he had before imagined. And as for the question of Phantom’s own role… he nodded, as if agreeing with something no one had said. "Should you choose to join us, I believe your knowledge of Helovia and attention to detail would suit you well to the ranks of Absolver or Artificer—our scholar and crafter ranks," he said, though the former seemed the best suited. "All in the Unbound choose two disciplines, a primary to teach and a secondary to learn. Whatever you decide, you would be welcome," he concluded at last before lowering his head and waiting for Phantom’s response. "" ashamin, lochan, & rakt |