the Rift


[OPEN] the world is a teacher - - -

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#1

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

Wide wings beat in steady rhythm, carrying her south from what Africa had called the Threshold. She had taken her first step towards permanence in this new land by accepting a place with the herd at Dragon’s Throat. She had met two of their number in the forest of the Threshold and they had been so unlike those she had grown up with that even before they had offered, Megaera had longed to go with them. Truly, this impulse was still strange for her, even more so that she thought they might one day become friends, but it was done. Flying had always been good for thinking, and as the autumn breezes buffeted her about the sky, Megaera was trying to get used to the idea of companionship as well as the new lands she was eager to explore.

When she had arrived in the region, the summer had been waning, near to close, and the winds of autumn had come with a crisp chill. The earth-colored mare didn’t mind the wind (in fact, she was quite fond of the forceful currents) but the cold she could do without, it reminded her to much of the tundras where she had been born. Her father’s herd had all been thickly coated and hot blooded, but her mother’s southern blood had made Meg ill-suited for the cold. As she moved south back towards her newfound desert home, the air warmed again and the young mare let her path wander. Night was drawing closer and the first stars began to show dimly in the eastern sky as Meg let the wind toss her around the sky. Higher and higher she reached, where the air grew thin and from the ground she may have seemed only a bird.

And then she let herself drop.

Speed. It was the greatest exhilaration. She plummeted downward, slender head pointed and wings pulled tight to her body, like a falcon upon its prey. Her only prey at this point was practice. Everyday, it seemed, she learned something new about who she was and what she could do; she called it her “training sessions” (not that she really knew what she was training for.) Megaera tried her newest trick and spun her body slightly. Even the small motion was enough to send her body in to a tight spiral, increasing her speed even further and she hurtled closer to the ground. When it seemed she might hit the grassy terrain like an asteroid, she spread her long feathers again and in a great woosh of wind came out of the dive to glide over, the plain, skimming her hooves and wingtips through the tips of the long grasses.

She had been so caught up in her diving delight, that Me had not before noticed the light ahead, brighter now than the glow to the west where the sun had just dipped below the horizon. It opened before her, the vast pit that burned and smoked, and she dared not fly across it. She touched down clumsily some yards away from the mouth of the hole in the earth. Righting her footing, she stared at this new wonder before her. This land, she had already seen had a deeper magic that she understood, and she had already heard that gods walked in Helovia. Africa and Gaucho had spoken of their Sun God, This looks like it could be his work. Face the heat, she moved over the cracked clay beneath her, stopping just shy of the edge, gaze transfixed by the shadows that played in the flamed below.

Years from now they might call her a warrior, the conqueror of realms and men, but for now Megarea was only a girl. A fighter with nothing to fight for. In years, truly, she was grown, yet her heart was still restless and reckless and she had many lessons to learn before could find her place.

[lainespeak]
Tagged: @[Mauja]
Notes: No rush, darlin!

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#2
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
He wasn't sure what kept him in the south, aside from fear. It wasn't the weather, and that was for certain, so only the incredibly unflattering truth remained: he was afraid. Afraid of the ones he loved and cared for, afraid to face them and who he was, mark an end to an era and the start of another. Afraid of how they'd treat his absence, the way he'd once more slipped away in the night without a word. And at the same time he knew that each day he didn't seek them out as another day they could berate him for. Psyche would, maybe, be fine with it; she knew he'd gone on a mission, after all, but what did she think when he went dark? When the signs of him ended? Ophelia, they never met quite so often, would she even know he'd been out of Helovia? And Faelene... He'd promised to be there. Promised himself, her, and their child, and what had he done? Not only had he left to infiltrate the Throat, but then he'd just vanished. So much for his promises. So much for him being a father, raising children. No wonder his offspring ran away as soon as they could.

His breath smoked into the cooling dusk air, knees rising higher than they needed to as he batted the crisp, dead grasses aside. They broke easily beneath his weight, leaving a crumpled, messy trail anyone could follow. Such was the curse of the season; Mauja knew very well how to move with stealth, how to leave minimal trails, but right now he wasn't interested in it. His frustration had worked itself past the apathy again, inflaming his mind and his flesh, and his tail kept lashing every odd step or so, a flicker of ghastly white in the dark. As ever, the glow of his blaze lay as a dim, blinding curtain at the edges of his forward vision, a beacon for any who gazed into the night. His anger felt almost as hot as the heart he was approaching, a flickering flame licking the insides of its icy cage. Mauja was not one to succumb to emotions, to wrath least of all, but.. it was not so much anger as it was something born of desperation, frustration. Confusion. He wasn't angry at the world. He was angry with himself, and for no real reason.

The orange glow could've been soothing, maybe, on any other night. Now the flickering flames just bit his eyes, too bright as they roiled within their crater and spewed heat into the air above, distorting it. The gases burned cleanly, and as Mauja climbed the faint rise to the edge on this side, he became aware of a shape standing on the other; bulky wings folded to slender sides, her withers not cutting high into the air. He couldn't smell her for all the fumes from the heart, and wasn't sure he wanted to either. He wanted to be alone with his burden, with his godforsaken mood, and everything else. Even Irma was not nearby, hunting unfortunate mice further out where his reckless march would not scare them into hiding. Grinding his teeth together, Mauja took his eyes off the other horse and turned his entire side against the fire. He didn't want to look at it, either, and wondered if he'd gone here at all if it wasn't for the fact that it had been straight in his path. The heat and light lapped against his left side, painting his stark white hide red and yellow; his right side was silvery pale and..fucking cold, for a lack of better word. He scowled. This was why he hated fire. It snatched the warmth from whatever parts of yourself you weren't presenting it with, and if you strayed too close in your quest for heat, bit you hard instead. Sourly he flicked his tail, and thought that maybe it was just for the best if he left again.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#3

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

There was always a danger in fire. It could offer warmth and comfort, it could purify and renew, but fire was a deceiver. It could turn on you in a moment; bite and sting you; leave you scarred or choking on smoke or dead. Fire was a seducer, and it held Megaera in its thrall. The young mare stood at the edge of the vast pit, still as a weathered stone (so rarely was she ever still at all), and watched the tumult of flames before her. They danced, how else could one describe it, in the wide circle, light and shadows mixing and turning and spitting at one another, fighting for dominance. As she watched, it appeared that there were figures in the fire: faceless demons and winged sprites frolicked and fought battles and in the hiss of steam and smoke, they sang their fire song, a siren’s song. It had decided to call Megaera.

Fire was danger, yes, and danger was a challenge. If there was anything to be said about Megaera, it was that she was not one to ignore a challenge. She had grown up seemingly without a moment’s peace: meet the danger or be conquered, it was the only way she knew. Stand your ground, girl! she’d heard it again and again, never an encouragement, always a reprimand. Never had she been a coward, but no one had ever seemed to notice that. Her father and brothers had pushed her and pushed her but towards nothing, only because she’d been there to be pushed. It had made her brave, in a way, but it had also made her foolhardy and impulsive. So this danger, and any other, was a challenge and Megaera was powerless against her compulsion to do something! She had to prove herself! Though if you could ask her, the little thing would never be able to tell you to whom, or even what it was.

Megaera took a step forward, shards of rock sliding around her small hooves as they picked their way closer to the edge. How close could she get? How much heat could she stand? here was her task and she was determined to find out. It was perhaps the stupidest thing she’d ever done, even her final fight and flight of her birth herd hadn’t had a pit of flames at the bottom of it. She might have remembered, had she not been so transfixed by the dancing colors of the fire, that though she was as agile as any in the air, on the ground she was prone to get her legs crossed. Then, she was snapped out of her reverie. A flash of white had her eyes flicking upward to the opposite edge of the pit. For a sliver of a second, she saw just another shadow cast by the light and the shimmering haze in the air. She hadn’t been distracted for very long, but it had been long enough: as it occurred to her that there really was a body standing across the expanse, the dry and cracked ground beneath her gave way.

With a shout of surprise, Megaera started to scramble backwards, but where the ground was already falling away beneath her she found no footing and her panicked body began to descend towards the tumult of flames. FLY! it was the only thought her panicked mind could latch onto and she obeyed instantly. Great wings stretched out beside her and came downward in a great rush of wind. Jut before her feet could be reached by the fire’s reaching tongues, she was able to snatch herself into the air but her wings, far longer than the rest, had come so low in their efforts to raise her that the tips grazed through the flames. It took her another moment to realize it, and she was already over the center of the pit when the pain spiked through her and she let out a shout that held more rage than fear. Forgetting completely about the figure that had distracted her, she hurtled ground on that side. She touched down stumbling and thrashing into a kind of summersault, which extinguished her left wing tip. When she was able to find herself on her feet again she attacked the right wing that still blazed along the tips. Her wing curled oddly, she stamped and bit at the flames, able to diminish them little by little, ripping out flame and ash and charred feather alike. When all the orange and yellow had gone, there was left only black and Meg swayed where she stood, unsure what to do. In her head, she tried to fight off the fear, the confusion but when those left nothing else seemed to come to take their place, only exhaustion. Small tremors crept up her spine, and the mare coughed though the smoke and charred feathers settling in the air.

[lainespeak]
Notes: Here is the extent of Meg's wing damage. Poor baby! The whole time I was writing I was saying NOOOOO!!!

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#4
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
I'm a restless soul, they make the very best ghosts...

If this was what it felt like to be a lingering spirit, the wraith of someone who could not let go—if this was what it was like to haunt, he pitied those who were trapped in limbo forever. It was a fire burning up inside, an itch in his legs, and in his mind. Nothing could capture his attention long enough, nothing seemed interesting enough. The only thing moderately tempting was to run until he fell, but he was sure he'd grow bored of that after only a couple of strides. He couldn't sleep it off either, because how do you fall asleep when your mind is reeling? With a snarl etching itself on his face, Mauja raised one front hoof, and struck the ground angrily. Maybe he should just throw himself into the flames and have it be over and done with, once and for all; the dry earth stirred into dust when he touched it, and as predicted, it did nothing to soothe him.

The stranger's sudden cry had him snapping around—but the horizon was empty, and his heart lurched in his chest. Had she-? Yes, there her brown body was, careening down towards the churning flames—it made him feel sick, that brief, horrifying instant that she was free-falling towards the fire. To think that she'd taken her life. To think that he witnessed it. That someone could throw it all away, into such a painful end—he'd contemplated it himself more times than he cared to admit, but only for the long, dark sleep.

He always wanted to wake up again.

She was falling and she wouldn't be able to.

I don't want to die.

His heart was thundering in his chest, mouth dry; it was the taste of terror and insight. Just a moment later, too short to count or even label, the flames roared and rose his way, covering his view. It had all happened so fast—just like that. He wanted to stumble back, to catch his breath and take in what he'd seen, but he stood transfixed, pupils burning painfully from the harsh light. Why? Why had she done it? What had driven her to it? And why, as he was watching? Did she want someone to remember? His mind was reeling; barely the blink of an eye had passed, but it felt like years. The echo of her shout had faded from his mind. Had it been her last? Was he the only witness to her death?

He felt numb. He felt numb even as the flames, funneled by her first wing stroke, fell back to reveal a dark shape hurtling across the shimmering air: she cried out again, angrily, and for a moment all he could think was that she'd returned from death, turned into some vengeful monster.

Maybe she was angry he'd done nothing to stop her.
But how could he have known?

With a total lack of grace she crashed just a couple of yards away from him, and as if in a dream he turned to keep staring at her. She was, obviously, very alive; her wings were smoking and she was stomping one of them viciously, trying to put out the flames. The air smelled acrid, of burning hair, and his heart skipped another beat. He knew that smell too well. The fire whispered in the back of his mind, memories swirling just beneath the surface. He knew what it sounded like up close, crackling.. in your ears, your eyes, your throat. His mouth was still dry, tasting of terror and flame.

Finally the fire went out, and the girl stood still, trembling, with her charred wings on macabre display. Mauja remained motionless too, still over by the Heart's edge—still numb. He said nothing. What the hell had he just seen? What had she done?

"Why aren't you dead?" he finally asked, voice dry, hoarse; accusing, even. She fell into the flames. He knew what it was like to burn. She should be dead, but she wasn't.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#5

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

Her senses seemed to trickle back to her one by one. Her ears had been ringing, but as her mind tried o wrap around what had just happened they were fist to start investigating the scene. Meg could hear the murmur and hiss of the flames behind her in the pit. She could hear the a sizzle and a crackle and a hiss and her own wretched breathes as they were squeezed out of her lungs. Her nostrils flared wide as she began to recognize smells again, burning hair and soot and smoke.

The taste in her mouth was ash and dirt and blood.

Hers?

She could feel the blistering begin on the ends of her legs where the fire had licked at her there. She would have scars, too, around the soft skin near her mouth. Fire bites back. She struggled to bring her eyes to focus, and she saw wings dropped low towards the ground, shaking with intermittent tremors. They must have been hers. They didn’t look so very strange, her brothers had always plucked her feathers out, she’d seen her own blood before. In her mind, for just a moment, she was a filly again fresh from a round with her bullying band of brothers. ”Why aren’t you dead?” Megaera looked up and saw her father before her.

Panic! It was a sharp jolt back the terror of a moment before. Obharr had come back for his revenge and he was disappointed with her; angry that the fire had not claimed her for him. Forgetting the pain in her every limb, she rose to her own defense, turning to face him dead on. Her head thrashed forward. “YOU WILL NOT TAKE ME! came the angry scream made even harsher by her smoke scratched throat. ”YOU DESERVED WHAT YOU GOT!” As the always did when threatened, she spread her wings wide, making herself appear as big as she could. But the extension sent a sharp jolt through her raw tips.

No… no it’s not him came a voice in her head. With the pain had come a bit of clarity. The beast before her and Obharr’s build, yes, and even the voice that had spoken had been so similar, but the coloring was all-wrong. This creature, too, had a sharp horn instead of dark wings.

This was no ghost come for vengeance.

Her body seemed to shrink as all the fight left her. Stand your ground, girl! Megeara shook her head to rid it of that remembered voice, but she obeyed it anyway. She strained every muscle to make herself stand and survey this creature. That white. Spotted white her gaze flicked to the pit beyond and back, the series of events coming back to her. It had been this beast that she had seen, that moment of distraction that had thrown her to the flames. It hadn’t been his fault, not really. She thought of his words again. ”Why aren’t you dead

Why wasn’t she dead?! Her head pounded with the question and she could find not concrete answer. ”I had to fight.” it didn’t quite make sense to Meg, and even her words sounded a bit like a question, but that us what it had boiled down to. She hadn’t escaped, hadn’t killed her father, only to die here. The mare tried to remember why she’d been so eager to approach the edge. ”I needed to prove it. Needed to survive and go farther. I had to be better.” This stream of words was more to herself than the stallion in front of her as she tried to rationalize her actions.

Her gaze returned to meet the stallion’s. “I… Who…Who are you?”

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#6
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
Fear tasted awful. Terror tasted worse. And in the aftermath, there was almost always blood—his own, or that of others. Dryly he swallowed, knowing how it had ended the last time. Not his death, no, but the death of another, when the flames had reached up greedily, scorched his shoulder and turned the tables upside down.

This time, it was only his empathy, and his survival instincts, turning his mouth to ash. That, and envy; why did she escape the fires of hell alive, when fell into them time and again? (Because you never try to make it out.)

His voice didn't break the spell, for him, but hers did. It was almost like he'd slapped her. She spun on a dime, brought her charred wings out wide, and yelled at him. Just like that. Mauja's ears flattened themselves and he flung his head skywards, white hair rising in a crown around his face. "Fuck you," he growled at her; originally, he'd just been startled, but she hit a sore spot. Did she know..? Anything..? About him? Where he'd been, what he'd done? Did he deserve it? His breath came out ruggedly through his flared nostrils, blue eyes crystal-sharp and cold, angry.

And.. that was it. She didn't keep yelling, he didn't even know if she'd heard him, but she wasn't looking at him the same way anymore. Mauja watched her warily. Was she living in the same kind of head-in-the-clouds nightmare reality as he did? Where you barely could separate your terror and paranoia from the things that were real? And sometimes you slipped over the edge? And then, you just stood there, incapable of doing anything else, because your thoughts were just rushing around the inside of your skull, wandering further and further away from where you started... His frigid eyes narrowed slightly, tasting the silence and wondering if he should break it. If he wanted to. Could he just walk away, and leave her standing there? But just as he was about to make a move and turn towards the oncoming night, she came back, and said the most obvious thing ever, at least for those who wanted to remain alive.

It didn't, however, match up with his view of it being a botched suicide. One ear briefly unpinned as he looked at her suspiciously, but he knew enough about the world to know that first impressions were seldom right—and nothing was as frustrating as narrow minds. He'd always been judgmental, but tried to keep an open mind. To re-evaluate. But as she kept talking, almost like mumbling to herself, he wondered if he was wrong, again. Sounded like she'd tossed herself into the fire just to prove she could survive. Idiot. "Fool," he rumbled, ignoring her last attempt at turning it into some kind of normal conversation. "You prove nothing by sticking your head into the wolf's mouth and waiting for the jaws to come down. One day you'll die and the only thing you'll have proven is that you're an idiot." His dark voice was laced with trembling, withheld anger, and all the chill of a winter night; he'd seen enough death. He'd caused enough death. What madness had her dancing with it, of her own accord? What selfishness drove her to toy with the very thing so many of his friends had, desperately, wanted to avoid?

The air was growing colder.
The ground underneath him was nearly shaking, pulsing with the pent-up fury of his magic; the edges of his vision were darkening. Little nubs of ice poked up through the dry ground where he stood.

It had always preyed on him.
It had always fed his rare moments of rage; a dark, terrible flood of cold blackness threatening to rush through his veins.

He steeled himself against it.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#7

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

”Fool” he called her….fool… in a small part of her mind, Megaera bristled at the word. The part of her mind that was still clinging to what she’d been taught as a filly wanted to throw the word back at the mature stallion in front of her; wanted to shout and accuse and fight, but she did none of that. So small and distant was the impulse it seemed that Meg wouldn’t have done exactly that only a day before but there was something different now. It seemed the fire had diminished it, all but burned it away.

The next words of his speech fell hard and harsh on her ears. She wanted to shrink from the cold anger in is voice and even more so from the truth of his words. She was and idiot. She was young and stupid and naïve. Her whole life she’d fought for survival but here that had been nothing to fight, no one attacking her. IT had been very mush the opposite. She had met several pegasus in the forest of the threshold and they had welcomed her into their home at Dragon’s Throat. They had offered her a home and friendship and safety, something Meg had jumped at the chance to accept without knowing exactly what that meant. It had all seemed to good to last long, she’d gone looking for trouble. So used to fighting was she that she’d had to seek out something to fight, and she’d nearly gotten herself killed.

She could no longer meet the stallion’s eye. Shame of what he’d seen her do, and how she’d lashed at him in her anger and confusion and fear. Perhaps if she had not been so drained by her fight with her fiery wings, she would not have conceded this defeat so easily, but the terror had broken down her ego, her pride, so much that even this stranger was able to cut her to the core. ”You’re right.” her voice was scratched with smoke and shame as she spoke again. ”I shouldn’t have been so close…and then I saw you and I slipped and…and…” she trailed off as it flashed through her mind again: the fall, the fire, the flight.

She had no idea what to do next, after a beating she’d always been left to her own devices. Able to tend her own sores in peace and now she was more ravaged than she’d ever been and confronted with a massive beast that she had nearly attacked. What would he do is she just turned and walked away? Would she even be able to make it back? She definitely couldn’t fly, and probably wouldn’t until next Birdsong’s moult, and she’s not sure she could find her way back on foot.

“I’m sorry for what I said…” She started, glancing up at the stallion again, but stopped abruptly. He seemed to be shaking with fury and a chill ran down her spine. From fear? Or was the temperature actually dropping? A cracking sound had her eyes darting back to the ground where shards were beginning to spear upwards from around his great hooves. Was that ice? Hastily, she shuffled back a few paces, letting out a short gasp of pain as the raw tip of her right wing scrapped across the rocky earth.

Meg would not be able to maintain the energy to stand straight much longer. Her burned and battered wings already sagged beside her, and the favored each of her two front legs in turn, both sore and sporting burns of their own. ”I’m sorry! I thought you were someone else. I didn’t mean it! I was scared, I wasn’t thinking!” She tried valiantly to keep her voice strong, should was usually so skilled at keeping it cool and steady. But a tremor was in it. She knew that stallion could overtake her and he looked ready for the attack. She’d never be able to run, never be able to fight him off either.

”Stand your ground, girl!”

-lainespeak-
ooc: Working on getting Meg’s stats up. I can do a roll for this damage, right?

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#8
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
[ I'm sorry he's being quite rude. xP Anyway, err.. as for damage, that's only if you want to play the Helovia Hard Mode? ^^ ]

His heart was a ticking time bomb. Each beat pounded more blood through ice-lined veins, a reverberation through his bones—a drum beat in his ears. White breath smoked out from widened nostrils. He couldn't deny that he was tempted. He couldn't deny that the newly-awakened beast inside sniffed in her direction, for a whiff of blood, and wanted to bare its icy fangs, only to place them around her throat. It was a hunger, a yearning, to just let go and let the darkness in.. and out. The fact that she agreed with him did little soothe his mounting anger; so what if she admitted to being stupid? Black muzzle stretched forward slightly, jaws half-open, trembling.

There'd been a time when this hadn't been so hard. When the cold, cold beast hadn't been so close to the surface. There had also been a time when he would've given in without question. They were, after all, alone. And she had wings.

A good place for a kill. Just shove the corpse into the fires, and no one would ever know what had happened to her. A clean kill, the perfect murder—not like Torasin, leaving a body for all the world to find.

She finally seemed to notice that he was on the verge of losing it, balancing upon the knife's edge; a dead-drop on one side, and safety on the other. As the wounded mare backed, Mauja was drawn a step forward, unwilling to let her escape, or lower the tension in the air. Back-lit and with cold eyes he advanced, an edge to his step—the wolf on the prowl, a hunter again.

Spikes through hearts, chaos, and blood. Desperation.

The poor idiot was nearly screaming, voice trembling despite her valiance. The ground around him kept crackling; the world seemed darker than it had moments ago, the blood-red of the dusk fading into navy. "You should learn to think, then," he growled. The words felt thick in his throat and mouth, foreign somehow—why waste breath on words when he could simply..attack? No! He dragged the oddly lukewarm air in, tried to calm the forceful pounding of his frigid heart, but all he did was draw another menacing step closer. It was so temping to simply give in to the desire; it was part of him, was it not? He wanted to, didn't he?

So why do you resist? the darkness in his veins whispered.
He didn't have any good answer.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#9

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

The beast is mad. He’s completely and utterly insane the thought rang through her mind as the mare seemed to realize exactly what she was up against. Her wide eyes darted around his body, taking stock of hos weapons one by one: his jaws, open and trembling with teeth that could pull chunks out of her flesh; his hooves, large and rock-hard, that could break her bones with a well placed kick. And down to the ground where shards of ice extended from the earth. They came from him, and she knew it. Even his body was a weapon, large and thick with muscle. I am completely fucked.

Even as she had started her retreat, he had advanced to match the distance. They weren’t far apart; if he lunged he’d be upon her in seconds. She had only taken a step back, but the change it wrought in him was tangible. She had shown weakness, had shown fear, and he’d responded to it. Megaera had acted like prey and he’d become the predator. ”You should learn to think, then,” she heard the grown and knew that her words had been a mistake, speaking at all had been a mistake. This spotted demon was intent on ripping out her throat and agreeing with him was not going to save her. The fact that she was smaller and slighter than he, that she was injured and fighting off terror meant nothing. She’d delivered herself from the fire strait into the path of a monster.

Night was falling in earnest now and not twinkling lights broth the dark sky. Not even the stars cared to watch her die, it seemed… And that’s certainly what she though was coming. She couldn’t think what to do, she could never think well under pressure, and even if she had time to think she could not have hoped to escape. Her brain seemed to scream inward, FLY! but she couldn’t with her flight feathers burned away.

He took another step closer.

Her next move was as reckless as any she’d ever taken, but what choice did she have? An injured rabbit will still bite at the wolf that tries to catch it. Running on adrenalin, she pulled herself up onto her hind legs, charred wings flapping widely, sending burned pieces of feather flying through the air. There were no words, but her yell was long and it’s meaning clear: BACK OFF! She came crashing down and lunged forward, crossing the short distance in an instant. Still red where the fire had bitten at it, her muzzle led the way, lashing towards the stallion’s seething face. She came up just sort of him, teeth snapping and hooves sending dirt and dust into the air. A vicious snort came from her lungs and coal eyes blazed, intent on his ice-blue ones.

It wasn’t a bluff really; she had no plans on surviving this encounter. She’d fight, tooth and nail, until the bitter end and in this certainty on death, her fears left her. If I’m going down I’m taking this fucker down with me!

-lainespeak-
ooc: That’s perfectly alright! I’m lovin ~Mad Majua~ You’ve got free reign, just don’t kill my baby girl xP

Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#10
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
Devour. Teeth-first he drew another step closer, every inch of his body longing to caress her skin, to touch every bit of her.. to shred her veins and lay her open with the ice. It was a hunger, an itch in his teeth, as hot as the air which steamed from his nostrils—his throat was trembling, breathing jagged. White lined his blue irises, a rim of insanity around his eyes; the black pupils seemed fathomless, lightless, and his face contorted into a snarling mask. More and more his hesitancy, withholding the fury, seemed strange, foolish, alien. He wanted this.. he wanted to let loose the beast and feel the ground explode with the fervor of his power. He wanted to see her kneel before him, pride crushed and driven so deep into the ground.

There was no reason not to. Even her wings were meaningless, forgotten; the only thing which mattered was the clawing, trembling anger inside. The cold, cold darkness. And somehow, he went from wanting to regain control, to wanting to lose control. His teeth hungered for the warmth of her skin, his ears to lay against her neck and hear the sound of her frantic heartbeat—to listen to her shivering breath until they both grew silent and dark, laid to waste and empty.

He wanted to pull the ice from the ground, to hear the grinding whir of their quick ascent, the thud as they strained against their limits; to watch the faint wash of orange firelight lick their sharp, cold edges.

He wanted to, but he couldn't take that final step. The rush of anger was losing momentum, the fury cooling and the urgency disappearing; the beast had begun to sigh and lower its head again. The convincing justification had slipped from his grasp, and as he stared at the terrified, broken mare rationality began to whisper what did she do? what right do you have?

You are not so heartless.

Then everything changed.


The wounded mare yelled, a roar which split his ears and split the night—charred feathers fell miserably from her injured wings, their decrepit scent washing against him as she flapped them. "SHUT UP!" he yelled at her, halfway between himself and that other state of mind; his world was rocking, tilting sideways. She charged and he felt as if someone had grabbed him by the withers and rattled him violently, shaking everything in his mind loose. With a growl he threw himself off the ground, a pale monolith in the dark night; her teeth snapped shut on cold air and, to his own surprise, he didn't lash out. He simply rose to tower above her, forelegs tucked neatly against his chest, eyes blazing with frigid rage. The air he breathed in was cold and tasted of iron and blood—but the ground had calmed.

Gravity tugged him down, but he was no less confused about what he wanted to do with her. The burst of insanity-like anger had faded, left him feeling as hollow as ever, if a bit peeved with himself. Those moments of blood-lust never lasted long enough to fill the vacant space left by everything else—and in the face of feeling nothing, even the irrationality of anger was better. It tasted more of life, and less of.. this. Of broken, empty spaces.

The lines of his face were set, unforgiving and hard, as he gazed down upon her with his head high and ears flat against his neck. Perhaps there was nothing left inside, but it felt better to pretend behind his icy wall.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, he'd remember how to feel.

He knows that is a lie.

angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#11

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

Though her teeth lashed out, they snapped around only air, though her head swung wildly, it collided with nothing. Confusion. In her panicked mind, she couldn’t understand where he had gone. Her vision was cloudy, irritated by the soiled air, and as she thrashed it had blurred. Her eyes darted upwards and there was the beast, towering above her in the perfect depiction of power. He was massive, far larger than she in height and build and when raised up upon his hind legs her only thought was of looming death. When he came down she knew it was over.

The bay mare blinked, body becoming still aside from the heaving of her barreled chest. Shock had wiped her mind blank of all but a whisper You’re already dead. But she wasn’t. She’d expected an attack, expected him to rush at her, break her, and toss her into the pit she’d only just escaped from. In another blink it occurred to her that she must still be alive. Her senses were sill a riot, firing information into her brain before she could process it. The chilled air was in stark contrast to the heat the emanated from the fire nearby; sweat collected on her body and them seemed to freeze around her fur. It helped to concentrate on her breath, the push and pull of air into her lungs helped still her mind even if each raked her sore throat.

It didn’t make any sense, why didn’t he just attack? Everything about his body language had implied that he would, and even now after she’d rushed at him in a rage, he wouldn’t make a move. Though he strange, reactionary movements might have hinted at the inner war of the beast, Megaera didn’t see it. He just stood there, imposing and dangerous, looking down on her with an icy stare. Their close proximity should have alarmed her more but he was just as intimidating from a distance as he was here. They stood, almost nose-to-nose (or would have been if they’d been more alike in height) and as she tried to think an odd memory occurred to her.

She’d been one of the many watching the two great stallions do battle, and only a young filly at the time. For hours it had seemed, the two enemies had clashed until both were battered and bloody. They’d stood for a moment, heads close and eyes blazing, both about to launch their final attack and then they’d stopped. Almost simultaneously, the two dark beasts had reached out, touched muzzles, and walked away from the field. Her aunt had told her it was a gesture of trust, of respect.

She knew it was mad, knew that touching him would probably be the ting to set him off, but the impulse would not be denied. Slowly, gently, with small dark eyes fized on the cold star of his ice-blue ones, Megaera reached upwards and pressed the tip of her muzzle to his.

The contact lasted only a moment then the young mare pulled away slowly, and in her low voice quietly repeated the words she’d heard long ago: ”Go friend, be at peace.”

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#12
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
Th-th-th-th-th-th-th-th. That's the sound his heart makes. It's not the sound it's supposed to make. Left alone with nothing but the silence of his mind he heard it too keenly, a throbbing in his ears, a hollow ringing in his chest. It wasn't the sound of control, of clarity and sanity; it was the sound of chaos and panic. Blood thrummed through his veins, too rapid and suddenly too hot. The hunger in his soul, the itch in his teeth, had faded. He felt jarred. Well and truly jarred, like someone had grabbed him by the horn and shaken him furiously, until everything had just fallen out and left him empty, desolate. The only thing he had was the empty cold of his eyes, and he stared down at the shorter mare—she did nothing. He did nothing. He let her be, and time ceased to be important. Seconds passed without him counting them, the only clock the rhythmic pounding of his heart. It was slower now, slower because he breathed.

Impassively he watched her raise her face, eyes tracing the contours, the lines and planes—the slight, raw charring on her muzzle. He knew that pain. He knew it, he hated it, and somehow she'd cheated death—twice. Both him and the fire.

Her fire-bitten muzzle pressed against the plush tip of his nose, and still he didn't move. He knew that the observation of his numbness was a thought in and of itself, but at the same time, his mind was empty, almost as if he'd lost himself by accident. The smell of her was overwhelming this close, of burnt hair and feathers, and seared flesh. Mostly the former. He held still, a statue but for his breathing, cold and distant. What was the meaning of this? What.. what was he even doing? What had he been doing here in the first place? Why was he mad? Because it felt like madness, that blood-rage.

It felt like an eternity of silence, of dark eyes meeting lifeless blue ones, until she pulled away and spoke gently, as if to soothe a beast. ”Go friend, be at peace.”

His eyes lowered, and he turned his head aside; her words called something back to life, a sense of shame and guilt—this.. wasn't who he was. Who he wanted to be. He'd spent his entire life trying to atone, to become better. Was he going to let it all come to ruin now? He was a husk because he hollowed himself out. Because he always pulled back, further and further, until there was nothing left just beneath his skin.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice clear but low. His ears flicked back hesitantly. She was well within her rights to start yelling at him, or running away. Or telling him to go take a leap off the edge. He kept silent a moment longer. It felt stupid, pointless, to try and explain. There was nothing to explain, anyway. Oh, he could say I didn't mean to, but that didn't change the fact that he had done it. "Does it.. does it hurt?" he asked cautiously after a moment, his eyes going to her badly scorched wings.

[ welcome to the bipolarity that is mauja.... <_< ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#13

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

Silence. Despite the crack and hiss of distant fire and her own ragged breaths, all Megaera could identify was silence. It seemed to press in on her as she waited, either for attack or reprieve, a soft ringing in he hears and a pressure in her head, and seconds seemed hours as she waited. Through the seemingly endless moment, she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, and in them, when she looked for rage and hatred she saw nothing. That disturbed her even more.

As he broke their eye contact to turn away, the mare felt the pain return. Even as relief washed over her, the adrenalin of her final rush seemed to ebb and she remembered that she was burned and sore and tired. She lowered her head, eyes closed in a wince. Meg had experienced pain before, her brothers and beaten her on a regular basis in the awful little games. Her wings had been bent and kicked and bitten, but fire, it seemed, had a pain all it’s own.

She looked up in wonder as the stallion spoke. ‘I’m sorry’ By years, Meg was grown, a mare in her own right, and even before then she’d always been so determined to be strong and bold a fierce. The fire had taken that from her. Though it might return when she had healed, right now she was a child again, and slow, silent tears tracked from her eyes. She’d gone from intrigue to terror to rage to relief in minutes and it overwhelmed her. She should run now while she had the chance but this strange, empty being before her was all at once a terror and a comfort.

She’d never seen anything quite like it, the spotted stallion’s cold fury had seemed to soften but it had been replaced by….well, by nothing. In the midst of her own physical pain, there was something about him that tugged at Meg. So desolate he seemed and in that state Meg couldn’t bring herself to be angry, to hate or to scorn. She’d never been a soft hearted thing, but there was more concern in her face and her heart than accusation, what pain must he know, what grief or curse or fear?

He spoke again, looking at her charred wings and she followed his gaze. ‘…does it hurt?’ She hesitated, logic told her to leave while she could, to stumble her way back to Dragon’s Throat… Would they want her back there? Bloody and burned as she was? Of course they would. she told herself, everyone there had been so kind, and little Alina was like the sister she’d never had. But she needed rest, and thogh she was wary of the stallion, there was something that made it seem she could ask the same question.

She shouldn’t trust him, and she’d never sought the comfort of others, but she was tired and hurt, yes it hurt, and the night beyond seemed so very cold. The beast was as much of a comfort as he was a lingering threat btu she lingered… I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t.” her words came out in a sigh that caught in her throat. She felt like she should say something else but was too distracted by the constant thrum of pain. Her scathed front legs shuffled as she tried to favor each in turn, and the mare backed up a few paces trying to find a more comfortable stance. Giving in, she lowered herself to the ground. It was an awkward process, and as dry dirt and rock raked across her knees, she gave an aggravated hiss. When she’d stilled, they stung but were better for having her wright off of them. Her wings still stuck up, they were the worst part, and getting them to fold at her sides drew out a cry, thogh habit had her jaw clenched to try and stifle it. “It’s I who should apologize, you didn’t toss me in that pit… and when I was out I was so confused, I thought… I thought…I shouldn’t have.” Meg struggled to put her thoughts into words and exhaustion flooded her. She looked up at the stallion, trying to find anything to say. “I’m called Megeara.” she decided on. Might as well start at the beginning.

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#14
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
Hollow. In the emptiness, he could hear everything, his pulse, her breath, the sounds of the oncoming night—if he strained, he thought he could even hear the faint, astral song of stars, their hum as they flickered into life on a darkening sky. And, he could hear it too, the faint cracking of his life, how it kept fraying at the seams; the sound of the walls coming down, the first trickle of warmth, and life, back into his veins. After all, isn't guilt an emotion..? Doesn't shame indicate that you know something..?

But mostly, he was just disappointed, in himself. Wasn't he stronger than this? Wasn't he humble enough to know, that he could not always come out on top? Wasn't he more in control? Slowly, the emptiness of his eyes filled up, the faintest traces of guilt and that ever-present, gentle sadness. It clung to him like a second skin, something he'd been cloaked in for years and years and never quite been able to cast off. He was burdened by all the silent words he yearned to yell out, dragged down by the secrets he clutched to his chest—slowly breaking underneath all the things he had to bear, alone, simply because there was no one he could tell. Because some things ought to stay buried forever, and only the echo of their changes reverberating through the world. It lay buried beneath the dirt, with only his own redemption whispering it had ever existed.

And so, with defeat lingering along the edges of his posture, and his hollow eyes whispering of some kind of life beneath their crystal surfaces, he looked upon the mare who neither yelled at him, nor fled with whatever mercy he'd given her. Instead, she seemed just as tired as he did, just as eager to be rid of the tension, of the anger; of yells and fear and terror, pain. She had every right to call him out on his irrationality, but she didn't—simply admitted to the familiar agony, and again, his eyes flickered away into the night. He had not pushed her into the fire, but he almost felt as if he had, with the pull of his silhouette and the thrumming anger. Ears hanging back, Mauja chanced a glance at her again as she moved around, charred skin probably screaming at every movement. What was she doing? In quiet consternation he watched as she folded her legs, and fell into the earth's embrace, here somewhere in the middle of everything, halfway between nowhere and everywhere.

Valiantly she muffled a cry as she moved her wings. One of Mauja's ears twitched. Oh, he knew the exhaustion that came on the tail end of agony, of the desire to simply crumble and fall asleep and never wake up again to the body's rhythmic pounding, but—out here? Where the stars watched and who knew what dangers lurked into the shadows? She made herself defenseless and vulnerable, at the hooves of someone who had just barely reined his monster in. Was she so full of trust for his sudden change, or simply too exhausted, too inexperienced not to know not to fall asleep on the field of battle? Feeling too confused to make sense of it he simply watched and listened as she spoke, shaking his head slowly from side to side. "I had no right," he said quietly, bitterly. Oh, maybe he had a right to lecture her on the folly of seeking danger, but the rest..? It had just—happened. Happened, when she yelled at him, and that vast well of self-pity had opened up and swallowed him whole.

He remained where he was, some space between them there in the budding starlight. Tiredly she looked at him; tiredly he looked back, not sure if he should go closer or not. He was too tired to grow angry again, but not sure if he was allowed to come closer. "Mauja," he simply responded, not quite sure what else to say, either. The fire had marked her as its own, obliterating any sense of herd with its scorching flames. The scent of burnt hair was overwhelming. "Where are you from?"

[ <3 you get my 700th! ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#15

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

“Then let us mock with ancient mirth this comic, cosmic plan;
The stars are laughing at the earth; God's greatest joke is man.
For laughter is a buckler bright, and scorn a shining spear;
So let us laugh with all our might at folly, fraud and fear.
Yet on our sorry selves be spent our most sardonic glee.
Oh don't pay life a compliment to take is seriously.
For he who can himself despise, be surgeon to the bone,
May win to worth in others' eyes, to wisdom in his own.”

-“Laughter” (excerpt) by Robert Service


Megaera was never a restful creature. So young she was, and so wondrous of spirit, that adventure called her ever onward. She wanted to see much and do more and be better; better than others, better than her own self. She shuffled her feet when she stood to long and ruffled her wings when she longed to fly. Even in her deepest sleeps, dreams of adventure and the challenges ahead kept her twitching in anticipation. Stillness was as unnatural to Meg as the desert would be to a fish. Yet as she lay upon the cracked earth with the night pressed close around her, stillness was her saving grace. She kept her breath short and shallow and they began to calm, and each movement was like a fresh burn so she focused on keeping her whole body collected and calm.

Her stoic companion stayed where he was, and Meg watched him carefully as he answered. She wouldn’t guess that he would change his mind and attack again, but she couldn’t be sure of that. He seemed scarcely less tired as she, though, and she hoped that their standoff had truly come to an end. His voice was a strange mix, the deep tones night have been relaxing, hypnotizing even, but there was a bitterness in his voice as he answered her. “Well met, Mauja.” the humor was there in her tired voice, the irony. Well met was very much the opposite if their interactions so far but as quick as Megaera was to jump into a fight, she was just as quick to laugh. A softer expression crossed her face, and her humorous heart shone through her exhaustion. She might not be able to trust him but she was to tired to have much of a choice, and gentle words had worked so far. “At ease, soldier. No blood has been spilled between us by hoof or by horn, so we will be friends and say no more about it. That is my promise, if you can do the same.”

The chill in the Autumn air was a double-edged sword. Though it soothed her burned extremities, she was better suited for the warmer climates. “North..” she started, in response to his question, but stopped herself with a tired laugh again, “No, south of here, with the herd at Dragon’s Throat. It’s a recent development, you see. I only came to Helovia in Tallsun, and before that I came from the frozen plains far east of here. Strange, to have a home again…” This last thought was more to herself, and strange it was to the young mare to remember that she did have a home to return to, a place to seek safety and heal. Tomorrow, she thought, she would make her way back to the Throat, though she’d have to work to keep sand out of her raw skin, the cool waters at the oasis would be as good as any healing magic. “And you, Mauja? You don’t seem a desert native.”

-lainespeak-
Yay! I feel so special<3 congrats on that milestone, You deserve a decorative golden keyboard!
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#16
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
The commotion faded as suddenly as it had come, leaving them with only the night breeze, and those ever-burning flames, moving. Mauja's madness had burned itself out, drowned in the vastness of his conflicted mind, and she, well—it was not surprising that she chose to remain still. The cool air stroked his back, his shoulders, his face; white strands veiled his eyes as he watched her. Such small breaths. He understood. He knew, and he knew to keep his mind reined in. He knew what a struggle each movement would become, how vulnerable you were in you feverish, inflamed state, and the anger at your weakness... The longer he looked at her the more he realized she'd gotten off easy. It could've been so much worse.

“Well met, Mauja.” His eyes, soft with the exhaustion, snapped to her face. Well met...? That was hardly what he'd say under the circumstance, but it was what she had said, with something lighter lacing her pained voice. He breathed out a half-mute, brief snort. The corner of his mouth curled up, a faint gesture in the darkness. Well met, indeed. But she didn't stop there, no. To Mauja's incredulity, and bemusement, she went on, speaking to him with the same gentleness as before. Oddly enough he found himself believing her, that she truly wished to forget their dramatic episode, and he wasn't sure he could complain about that. After all, the fewer the ones who hated his guts.. the happier he'd be. Blue eyes sought for her dark ones. "I promise," he swore, solemn. It was the least he could do, for his sake, and for hers.

She began to answer his question of her origin with a rather unlikely answer, but quickly changed her mind. South? The Throat? Of course. Despite the openness of three of the four realms, the vast majority of pegasus seemed to prefer the Throat. And no one called them racist, even when there'd numbered but one or two wing-less with them. And Kri, she'd not been even half as pleasant as he'd been when meeting with others. Apparently, if you wanted to keep secrets and good faith, you should act like a defensive bitch. There was irony in it, but it felt too old now—too old to be bitter about. Just some fanciful token of his past, something he could hold up to the light and study every tarnished line, then shake his head in amusement and put it down again. Helovia had been dead set to be distrustful of him, and nothing he'd ever done had changed that.

“And you, Mauja? You don’t seem a desert native.” At that, she drew a gentle, but oddly humorless, laugh from him. No desert native indeed. During Helovia's darkest days he'd lived with them, a shadow on their outskirts, a dark, handsome stranger with something on his mind; a scheme, a plot, always out of reach just behind his smiling eyes. He'd made sure they'd taken little notice of him, until that first moonrise.. the moonrise which had brought everything to its knees. "You're right about that," he said instead, sealing Dreven further in his grave. "Originally I come from the far, far north. Three or so years ago I came to Helovia for the first time—I've lived here and there since then. Currently I call no place home." And I don't think that should be changed anytime soon.

He just wasn't ready to face the world again.

[ -dumps liquid gold over it- xP ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#17

keep on walking, soldier girl, home is far behind you

She smiled slightly as the stallion’s solemn promise left him. Perhaps using the word “friend” was a bit of a stretch, ,and Meg would certainly puzzle over their strange encounter, but it could certainly be said that Mauja as one of her more interesting acquaintances. There was something about him that made Meg just a little sad; anger and rage she could understand, but there was that emptiness in him, a this mare was loathe to pass up the opportunity to investigate what she didn’t understand.

On what could be called a normal day, there would have been no chance that Megaera would have sat still on the ground while an unknown and potentially dangerous stallion was so close by. No way in hell she would find amusement in the irony of escaping a potential murder and then chatting with your potential murderer. This had not been a normal day. Meg had escaped death twice and tomorrow she might wake up a little bit wiser, but sleep dragged at her and as ill-advised as it might have been, she wasn’t going anywhere right at that moment.

She heard the stallion’s words through a foggy haze as sleep attempted to tug her eyes closed, and anything off or sinister that might have been betrayed by his words or his tone or his humorless laugh failed to catch her attention. “Home’s such a strange concept isn’t it? I didn’t like my first, it was more of a prison really. Better off to have no home like you than one like that.” Her words were slow and quiet, exhaustion made her ramble, free-flowing thoughts and associations more than actual conversation.

“I h—hope you find one, a good one.” The second word was broken as he mare gave a yawn. She lowered her head and her heavy eyes drifted to slits. She said no more but watched the dancing flames nearby as the drifted closer to sleep.

-lainespeak-
So short, I know, blegh! just a surge of activity with the new swp, shall we call that a wrap?

FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#18
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
because there's ice in my heart.
He never deserved any of it—the fierce loyalty of the Plague, Ophelia's affections, nor the forgiveness of strangers. They were so beautiful in their warm hearts, awe-inspiring and frightening in the goodness of their minds; their ability to forgive, and forget, his dark sides... For what he'd nearly done to her, he did not deserve her forgiveness, her trust as she let herself lay upon the warm earth of the Heartlands.

Or perhaps that was just his evil, downward spiral of bitterness and self-doubt. Perhaps he did deserve it, because he hadn't done it—because he'd held back, to the point where he couldn't have triggered it even if he wanted to. Maybe he was a villain only because he thought he was, when all the crimes he'd committed as of late were accidents or mere mind-crimes, thoughts of all the things he'd like to do to some of Helovia's inhabitants... Revenge was a sweet poison, and one he seemed to gulp down like water after a long, hot day. Because truly, it was the only thing he had left, the only thing he had to cling to in the spinning darkness of his mind. It was the only purpose, the only cause, the only direction on his seriously fucked-up compass.

Pain and healing were claiming its dues. Eyelids fluttered in the hazy, moving orange light, dark brown depths growing dimmer as her head sagged; there was that twitch of wanting to stay awake, but of not being strong enough. Mauja took his eyes off her, raised them to the night. For now, they were alone. Only the wind stirred the long, dry autumn grasses, and the only shape the stars had for company was Irma, returning from her earlier hunt. “Home’s such a strange concept isn’t it? I didn’t like my first, it was more of a prison really. Better off to have no home like you than one like that.” Sleep had marked her, branded her and was dragging her down. The filters of the mind thinned, tongue waggling freely to the train of thought—another small smile curved his dark lips, and he glanced down at her. Once, many many years ago, Mauja had liked his old home. He'd had a future. And once, here in Helovia, he'd been content in his cliffside forest, king of the mists, wary and cantankerous like an old guard dog.

But that was a long time ago now.

In silence he watched her succumb to sleep. The lines etched on her face smoothed out, eyes closing. Despite the season, the ground this close to the Heart was warm from within, a good enough bed to sleep on. He shifted his weight, frosted hooves scraping softly over the dry terrain. Did she expect him to leave? Or maybe the idea of what he would do had not crossed her mind. Mauja tilted his head slightly to the side as he peered into the deepening darkness. He couldn't exactly leave her lying here for the crows and wolves to feast upon. He flicked his tail, and sighed quietly as Irma did another round in the quiet sky.

"Sleep well, little friend," he finally said after a long while, when he was sure she'd fallen into the depths of sleep. Mauja cocked one hip, and settled in for a night of vigil-keeping.

[ ending it here is fine with me! :) ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here


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