White December

"Carl there's no need for you to kill every bug you come across," she mused in her deep tone, eyeing him dark eyes and her usual expression; or lack thereof. They had been walking along the edge of the borders, December doing a smaller patrol of the herd lands just to wrap up her monotonous day. While she had been making sure everything was as it should be, the llama that was always at her side had taken it upon himself to find a new way to be entertained. He had turned to violence; again, working cloven hooves on any miniscule insect that crossed his path, eyes aflame of sick glee and his steps light each time he tried to prance after a new victim. The constant bloodthirst she felt within their bond had made her want to vomit at first, appalled that she had been stuck with such a creature, but now it was background noise to her, a constant ache that would never go away. Carl would be who he wanted to be, and nothing she said or did would stop him.

As the fireball in the distance slowly dipped into the horizon, the mare concluded her patrol and turned inward once again, heading to her resting nest for the night. The long shadows kissed at her hooves, cloaking her white bodice in mute black as she delved deeper into the jungle, searching for a water source to quench her thirst from before retiring for the evening. She would be lying if she said being a soldier was a hard duty, since there wasn't much war going on, her duties usually consisted of keeping an eye on the boundary lines, greeting any intruders at the edges, and also making sure there was no riff raff about the lands. It was peaceful to say the least, and the mare didn't know if this was a good or bad thing. Carl had grown bored of killing things, especially since they offered him no reaction, and thus had resorted to running at December's heels, grabbing her dark feathers in his jaws and tugging roughly, ignoring the slight pain he felt with each jerk of his skull. The damsel stopped, baring ivories to the little bundle of wool and snapping them in his face, growing tired of his antics. When he refused to stop she shoved him with her skull, sending him tumbling a foot or two away. She had begun to think he got off on the pain they both shared, or he was just so mentally skewed that any pain he felt was smothered by the euphoria he got from torturing others. The sick fuck.

Snorting, satisfied that she had fought off the minor nuisance for now, she continued onward until she found one of the main waterfalls of the land, working her way to its edge and pressing dark lips to the surface. Drinking a few cooler mouthfuls she sighed, quite pleased that the Tallsun heat of the day was quickly vanishing, only to be replaced by a sky full of stars, but no moon in sight. Not that the woman cared, she didn't take the time to observe the moon cycle, especially not enough to know it was abnormal for the rock to not be present in this moment of time. Soon she was causing the smooth surface to ripple further, her massive bulk breaking into the waters for an early night swim, eyes closing to embrace the cool against sunburnt skin. Sighing softly, the woman began to wash herself, no longer paying any mind to the surroundings around her.

"Speech"
Text
Thought

{WC: 602
Tag: Rosti
OOC: Have fun lol. }

I don't need a reason to be grumpy. Sometimes I just am. There's nothing you can do about it, there's nothing I can do about it. We have to wait it out until it passes. I'm not feeling good, you bet your ass I'm going to make sure no one else feels good either. Rage is... a somewhat unfamiliar concept for me. You would never think that, given my somewhat unfortunate upbringing or the fact I am a warrior (general, or whatever you want to call me). I have always been taught to control my emotions, to bury them, to... not feel. Get on with my life, with whatever I've been given, and.. well.. not even enjoy it. No one told me I should enjoy my life. I guess that's a common goal but with me it's more of a happy happenstance, if it works out. But sometimes, I can't bury those emotions, and they take over. Like anger. Rage is irrational, overpowering.. When I'm mad I can't think straight and there is no rhyme or reason there is just ANGER. Logic stays buried in my brain, screaming to rule with no ability to take the throne of my mind's kingdom. No, the anger is the tyrant, the despot that rules until his iron fist finally weakens from the passing of time.

Unfortunately for my canine counterpart, our bond means that Damaris suffers from the same untempered wrath. I would not wish my unleashed emotions upon her, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. She has tried to calm me, to reason with me, to try to understand the reasoning behind my mood. But how can you reason with irrationality? Finally she was forced to give in, to suffer my sullenness alongside me. Of course I'm sure she will exact some sort of revenge later, or scold me for my ill mood, but it does no good now.

We walk the borders of the Falls, sour and, at least on my part, looking for trouble. But there's no trouble to be had. No intruders, no invasions, no wars. Peace is the name of the game when it comes to the Falls, and I feel purposeless - on more occasions than this. I walk past the prisons, past the secret pool (not so secret, hm?), past beautiful flowing water as the sun sets and the stars begin to shine on a deliriously gorgeous Tallsun day. Nothing to satisfy the need I have to RAGE against nothing and no one in particular. NOTHING... until I see her.

The light of the distant stars illuminate her pale skin, stark against the moonless darkness. She bathes quietly, innocently, unsuspecting beneath the pouring water from the ledges above. She's peaceful, a perfect juxtaposition to the roiling beast inside me. Her stupid llama companion is nearby, of course. I'm not sure if I'm pleased to see Spitting Carl or dismayed. My eyes narrow, and I feel adrenaline begin to build inside me. Damaris snaps her jaws together, and from her mind I see her snapping the young llama's neck in two, devouring it as an especially savory treat. Of course I know she will resist, but the image brings a dark chuckle to pass my lips. I don't see how anything good can come of my approach to the larger-than-life mare and her roguish companion, but I don't give two shits. Of course, December has never done anything wrong. Nothing besides occasionally getting on my nerves when I had other things on my mind, or the fact that her llama spit at me on its day of birth. These, of course, are forgivable things. But the victims of an acrimonious stallion do not have to be deserving of their treatment: they only have to be present.

The now-full grown hellhound sneaks up behind the llama, ready to silence it (without violence of course) should the need arise. I trod as silently and as calmly as I can manage, as if I might only be enjoying the starlight as she does. And so I speak as if starstruck: "A beautiful night, isn't it?" I wait for her reply, feeling my heart pounding inside my chest as I bide my time for the precise moment. When she breaks in her speech, I strike. "But a TRUE soldier of the Falls wouldn't be taking a bath, would she? NO. She'd be out fucking patrolling. Looking for a fucking spar partner." Spit flies from my mouth as I use any excuse I can to verbally flay her. "And what, you need a BATH?! What, do you need to look pretty before you go up against your enemy? Hope that maybe they'll be nicer to you as a POW? Because you'll be captured, you'll fucking lose because you were too busy ENJOYING A NICE FUCKING EVENING COMBING YOUR FUCKING HAIR instead of LEARNING TO DEFEND YOURSELF." My pale, pupil-less eyes cannot convey the emotions I feel. I think I can safely assume that my bellowing, the tossing of my laden crown, the stomping and tail swishing are enough to impart on her my oh-so-fucking FOUL mood.

WC: 857
Tag: @[December]

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

White December

"A beautiful night, isn't it?"

The words caused the mare to nearly jump from her skin, but the water only rippled as she turned her skull over a shoulder, water dripping from her forelock and falling down her skull and neck delicate. Her steel eyes seemed to gleam silver in the moonlight, dark lashes fluttering as she took all of the man in, wondering what brought him here. Her body began to turn; ready to face and readily converse with the closest thing she had to a friend, when the sight of Damaris sneaking up on the ashy grey babe caught her attention. Carl was obvious, continuing to kill any bugs he had come across, not even aware of the hellhound scent that most likely engulfed him.

Suddenly December was moving forward, as fast as the churning water would let her, baring white teeth in warning to the companion, never feeling easy to have anything but her so close to her companion. Soon she was breaking from the water's grasp, it splashing away and falling from her sides, pooling at her hooves as she gleamed like a pearl in the moonlight, fur managing to look rather clean under the moonlight. If anyone hadn't known who she really was, they would have probably thought her to be beautiful, a princess of the night with porcelain beauty that graced her always, despite her larger size.

But this was December, and her ears were flattening against her skull and she was snapping her teeth in warning to the mutt, hooves standing over the llama and giving one final look to make her point clear. That was when she finally heard Rostislav talking, it calm at first, before bursting into an uproar, words like knives lashing at her with the intent to injure. Except, he didn't seem to understand that she didn't care what her duties as a warrior were supposed to be. She did as she was told, then went to bed at night. She simply worked because she had nothing else to do, not because she had any pride or desire to fight or protect, it was just a job. Besides, she had patrolled for the day, and she would spar soon enough, she would just need to find a suitable partner. If he wanted her to go fight, then she would, but she certainly didn't feel the need to do it now. Despite part of her wanting to make this clear, she only listened; face revealing nothing as an ear flicked to and fro, attention only on him until he finally finished his rant.

Silence hung over them, air thick with the tension that the brute felt the need to release, and the mare had pretty much forgotten her problem with Damaris. Carl didn't though, and he was just about ready to bring World War III on the mutt, when a brief snort from December and her words gave him pause, "Carl. To bed please." In those eyes there was angry, wretched fury that overwhelmed the she-warrior and caused her to falter, but only briefly. She seemed to forget that despite his usual indifferent state, the babe was a firecracker when his fuse was lit. She tossed a wet skull, ignoring the droplets that sent themselves out, before looking at him with an intense star, standing her ground. There was a brief war between their link, one fighting the other for dominance, before the llama finally relented, snorted and spitting at the mare's leg in displeasure, glaring at the hound before trotting off in the direction of their nest. Watching him go she waited until he was out of sight, before finally turning to Rostislav once again, slowly working herself towards him in a calm manner.

She hadn't been fazed by any of it, it not really affecting her mood in any way. She didn't know if he was just being mean, or if he only needed to vent, but she could understand on some level. Sometimes you just needed to scream; even if it wasn't logical. Swishing her soaked tail at her hocks she stopped a few feet from him, never once looking away from those white eyes and only watching, expecting for more before finally letting herself break the silence, "I would comb my mane if I could. As you can see, it's not in the best shape." Turning to the side slightly she revealed the short and mangled strands, knotted and matted together in utter chaos due to no one ever assisting her in grooming it.

She never broke eye contact, only watched and listened, before turning her head back to look at him fully head on again, continuing in that same monotone, "I had just finished a patrol. I'm sure that even in your fury you can agree that everything is at peace along the borders. If you wish me to spar, then I will, but I doubt anyone is in need of a battle in the early hours of twilight." She took in a soft breath, sighing and moving her lips along a feathered limb, taking the bits into her teeth and parting them, grooming them as much as she could without risking getting yelled at, before righting herself once again and inquiring, "Is there anything else you need, Rostislav?"

"Speech"
Text
Thought

{WC: 884
Tag: Rosti
OOC: Lol sorry I ruined the rage but December gives 0 shits.}

Of course I should have expected December to defend her annoying little Spitting Carl. Not so fiercely of course, but perhaps that was a shortcoming this time around. I don't expect the mare to harm my companion, but I feel an extra pang of rage at her for snapping her teeth at the hellhound. Did she really think that I would let Damaris harm the fuckin' llama? Damn she's stupider than I thought! Damaris backs off, growling at the llama and at December. She wasn't going to hurt the stupid thing, just make sure it stayed put and out of my way. She's not given a chance to prove that, however. I'm surprised that December tells the Spitting Carl to back down and go to bed, even more so that he listens, though it is clear that he doesn't want to.

She turns back to me and.... is calm. Inside I'm flabbergasted. I've just lambasted her and she's taking it as if I'm having a casual conversation. What the fuck! Can I get no satisfaction? Of course this just angers me more, and I try not to splutter stupidly as she calmly replies. I pin my ears and sneer, curling my lip in mockery. "Come it if you could?! Seriously? You should have gone to fucking beauty school then. We're fucking wild horses why the fuck do you need to be pretty? Who the fuck COMBS THEIR MANE?" Of course she's just gotten back from a patrol! She easily takes that from my offensive line. As for spars, she's got an excuse for that, too. Though I could berate her for not knowing the benefit of surprise in a nocturnal attack.

But from her response I can see that I must change tactics. I've rapidly exhausted my original point of attack: being a soldier. She doesn't care enough and I don't want to just make her do a good job, I want to hurt her. I want to see her in pain. (Damaris growls again, but the direction is more ambiguous. I do not think she likes the desires that I have within me, but there's nothing she can do to change them.) Instead, as I watch her turn to picking at the feathers along her fetlocks, I see the opening that I need. Perhaps this mare is more vain than I thought. When we first met, I thought her fairly simple - in a good way - and down to earth. But it would seem that there is a streak of vanity that mars the character of White December. No, this is definitely my 'in'.

My tail cracks through the night air like a whip, and my growling voice is quick to follow. "Groom all you want, then, it shall do nothing for your appearance. You are large, oafish, ugly. Your coat is pale like a ghost and the coloring do you have makes you appear old and scraggly." I move closer and snap my teeth at her flesh, just barely missing it. "You are an emotional, good for nothing piece of meat that is only useful for throwing before our enemies like canon fodder, and if you're LUCKY bearing children to the lowest nag that no herd would dare take." The insults fly likes swarming bees, blinding stinging at their target. Have I hit my mark? Do these blows wound? "And even then he would be ashamed to say he ever laid eyes upon you? Gods help his soul for touching you." My mind doesn't think, doesn't process; it's completely removed from the situation. Only my tongue and lips are involved in this. A raging hessian who has found his victim.

WC: 611
Tag: @[December]

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

White December

He was berating her again; trying to get a jab in about her mane as it it would truly hurt her. That was when she felt perhaps he was doing this more out of the fact that he was in the mood to just yell. If yelling was what he wanted, then she would let him yell. She had suffered worse than a few hateful words, had taken more beatings than verbal ones, and she felt she could handle it. Surely something must have truly upset him if he had come to the point of insulting a friend. Because they were friends... right? She didn't let herself linger on that, didn't let her insecurities ebb into the thought of being rejected yet again, turned aside like nothing as everyone else had done. Rostislav was different, even though he was grumpy, he was kind in his own way. He had been the only one to stick around after seeing her on multiple occasions. At least, she thought it was him choosing to stay.

Suddenly he was changing tactics, pointing out her act of grooming and honing in on her looks. Calling her ugly, distasteful, anything that sounded good passing from his lips. She only listened, ear ears still pricked towards him, until suddenly he was closer. Teeth snapped shut inches from her skin, causing a slight look of confusion to flicker across those steel eyes. Surely it was him venting, not truly wanting to hurt her right? Her heart had begun to pound, the panic seeping in at the thought of actually having her only... whatever Rostislav was, potentially hating her, no longer seeing her worthy of his time. She took one step back, but only one, eyes still on him as she kept all the fear inside, paying only attention to him and his words, wanting him to hurry and get it over with so that he would feel better. She suddenly didn't like where this conversation was going.

"And even then he would be ashamed to say he ever laid eyes upon you. Gods help his soul for touching you."

She'd be lying if she told herself the words hadn't stung. The flinch was minimal, as if she was chasing away a pesky fly on her shoulder, but anyone who had seen her enough, he would know that he had struck a chord. Swallowing hard the mare blinked, silently staring, not knowing what else to do. She had to think, to let it all process and sit in her mind to see if he really meant it or if it really was just his anger talking. He had been upset that Carl spat at him when he was born, could that have driven him past the point of no longer seeking her companionship? Had she done something to drive a wedge between what meager relationship they had by being too abrasive, too much like her that he suddenly realized just how awful she was? Suddenly the filly was in her head, those teal eyes filled with fear and those blue crystals shooting from the earth and striking her skin. She twitched again, in the spot where the small mark had been made, another devastating flinch in December's world. She kept her breathing calm, her eyes only on him and his angry complexion. Damaris was out of her mind now, the dog had kept her and Carl at peace, and for that she was thankful.

Without thinking she stepped forward, attempting to get closer to the brute and to offer a gentle blowing of air on his cheek. Her way of soothing, rather awkward, but still her reaching out nonetheless. Grey eyes were searching his and she was silent, fighting down the fear and anxiety that boiled within, threatening to choke out of her and spill out into the open to reveal the broken woman she was. She fought it though, face still calm as she whispered, "I never claimed to be beautiful. Is there anything else you'd like to say Rostislav? I see you're upset, and as your..." Gods why was it so hard to say? So hard to admit what she felt even if it was so casual. She had to though, to let him know how she felt because maybe it would help ease his rage, to settle him and see that she had met no offense, only tried to offer support.

"Friend..." she continued, taking in a slight breath and continuing to look at him with that calm expression, eyes never moving away from him, a storm of emotion as she fought it all away and tried to keep on her usual face. She couldn't show him that it had hurt, that made her look weak. She wasn't weak, she never would let herself be weak, but she knew that many thought of her as such. She would prove them wrong. After calming her nerves again she finally continued in a soft whisper, "I'm here. Should you need to... talk or... well just have someone there. I will provide aid. As that um... is what friends do." This whole comforting a friend thing wasn't going as smoothly as she thought. It required... talking, and empathy, and talking and- well, she had to talk and that was already hard enough as it was. She would do it though, she would do it for him because she was loyal to him, to their friendship that she had come to cherish in her own way. Because for the most part; it was all she truly had.

"Speech"
Text
Thought

{WC: 926
Tag: Rosti
OOC: A bunch of awful ramble.}

Throughout my ranting the mare seems calm, the words I violently throw at her fall off like water off a duck's back. Her emotional hide seems almost impenetrable and I wonder what on earth has happened to her to make her so thick-skinned. I keep thinking that something I'm saying is going to hit home. Finally, it does. I've found my black arrow to her dragon hide. I don't know what it is about what I've said, but I see her flinch. Her previous lack of reaction makes the subtle movement so much more pronounced.

She steps close to me, and if I had been feeling more vulnerable, more yearning for closeness and affection, I might have stayed still and let her breath caress my cheek. But no - I'm fucking pissed. I don't want to be touched or loved or whatever this shit is that she's trying to pull. I throw my head back and lift my forefeet off the ground, backing away with an enraged snort. "Don't touch me!" I spit. I don't want to be touched when I'm pissed off, I don't want to be breathed upon. Don't even think about me. No I'm not fucking psychic but don't think about me!

'I see you're upset, and as your friend..'

And she goes on, stumbling with her words. Yes, I've hurt her. A sick satisfaction spreads through me, as if somehow this is what I feed on. My eyes wide, looking her large, upset form up and down. I'm upset, of course I'm upset. No good reason, no logic. If she asked what's wrong I would tell her that I don't fucking know. 'That's what friends do.' Is she my friend? Her kindness when I'm standing here trying to crush her soul stops me from continuing on my rampage. She's making it difficult to rage, to be irrational, to lose my mind over nothing.

More calmly than almost anything I've said before, a deep and low, serious tone slips from me. "I do not have friends. I have never had friends." My eyes narrow at her. "We have never been friends. You are my herd mate, you are my subordinate by rank. Whatever you think has bonded us has been in your imagination." I don't yell, I don't stomp. Her offer to be the shoulder to cry on (if I cried) is touching, and though I like to pretend it, my heart is not made of stone. A part of me doesn't want to crush her hopes that we are friends, somehow companions against the world. But I'm not trying to be mean when I tell her that we aren't friends. We aren't. There is nothing that binds us, and I don't see her awkward emotions, general apathy, or psychopathic companion as bringing us closer. I don't believe we will ever be what I consider 'friends'. It is true I have dealt with her more than other herd members, and certainly more than any of our other soldiers - even Oxy. But the emotional connection that she imagines... is a fairytale.

She's right. I am just venting. I am mad about nothing, there is nothing that she has done. There is nothing else I'd like to say - she's taken the wind out of my sails. Instead I have a simmering anger that I cannot dissipate and yelling at her doesn't even seem fun anymore. Only December could make having a bitch fest so exhausting. Now, I don't know what to do with myself except sulk. Sulk and be annoyed at the pale mare for leaving me SO unsatisfied. PASSIVE raging that you can't control and can't let out is even worse than the screaming kind. Thanks December, you made it worse. I glare at her and sigh with exasperation. What a headache.

WC: 633
Tag: @[December]

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

White December

Her attempt to soothe had failed, in fact it had made him worse. He was rearing back and she was stepping back, the hurt evident in her gaze at his rejection. She couldn't keep fighting anymore, the emotions flooding her and begging to be expressed. She had done all she could to set up those damn walls, to keep herself distanced from everyone around her. Yet they longed to be brought down, for the floodgates to open so that he could see how much he truly meant to her. He had been a constant, something that she had grown to expect in her daily life, and she had grown to like it, even savor every moment. When they helped with the Earth God's tasks, she thought that had brought them closer, that after he had seen how she could be that maybe he understood, and would see that yes; she was a weirdo, but she was still capable of feeling like everyone else. What she hadn't expected was her words to calm him, to take away the bite and rage that seemed to be bubbling over from the smaller brute, and that was when the relief began to wash over. She had helped, she had done what she wanted by trying to soothe him. She had done a good deed for a good friend and now they could- Her thoughts suddenly crumpled into nothing at the final words he said.

Now she knew. He had meant everything that left his mouth and it took her a second to register; to let it sink in what exactly he was saying and when it did... it killed her. Broke any ounce of joy she had left in her miserable life and set it aflame, nothing but ash as a reminder of what she had. The final barricade broke and the emotions came, eyes springing with tears as they pooled with utter hurt and rejection, face cringing in what could be thought of as painful disbelief at what he said. She was backpedaling away from him, large hooves frantic as she tried to let it all go but it kept pushing and it needed to stop before she lost her mind. Her hind hoof slipped on the lip of the pond, causing her to slip and fall in, surfacing as a pathetic lump of wet and cold. After coughing out the water from her lungs and also fighting back a sob she turned to him, so grateful that her tears and the water intermingled well together. She took her time standing, slowly pulling herself from the cool depths and ignoring the weight that filled her entire being, physically and mentally. Steel eyes met white ones silently, pleadingly, as if that one look would make everything he said untrue and would be void. That he had been joking, that it was all a silly game and he had gotten her good, and they would say their cheery goodbyes and end the night like that. But things like that were always too good to be true for her, she would never be that lucky.

How she tried to keep her tone even, tried to bite back the anguish that filled her voice as she only responded with a single word: "Oh." What did she say now? What happened now? Did she just walk away, let him remain where he was and continue feel however he was feeling and return to her nest and crumple into nothing like she had done all those nights before? Her breathing had hitched, heavy and taught in her broad chest as her hazy mind whirred, trying to think of anything more to say, to make it okay for him to be honest with her. He didn't have to like her... no one did. It just hurt when she found out they didn't. She couldn't look at him when she spoke next, and so turned her white head to look into the starry sky, momentarily admiring the gentle glow they offered in their velvet blanket, before breathing out in tone more like her usual, "I apologize for assuming. I should have known that-" someone like me couldn't have friends. She swallowed hard. Once, then twice, then a final time before clearing her throat and lightly tossing a soaked forelock out of her gaze. Her hooves began to bring her backwards again, towards her safe haven where Carl was waiting, but she couldn't just run. She had to make it seem like nothing had happened, and to do that she had to remain casual.

"Is that all you needed?" she breathed out shakily, hoping that the whisper made it sound breezy, careless as if she could have gone either way on the subject matter he had dropped on her like a bomb. That it didn't tear her heart in two to know that the one person she thought she could rely on didn't think of her as anything. She didn't stop her moving, only continued to slowly inch herself back towards the trees while looking attentively at him, hoping that with the distance he couldn't see the tears or the pain in her dark eyes, and begged him to be quick so she could finally go back to bed and cry until no more tears would fall. He had succeeded in his mission at last, was he satisfied now?

"Speech"
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Thought

{WC: 897
Tag: @[Rostislav]
OOC: jkgndkjgjrgj