THUNDERHEAD

She had left during the night, but not this night. To make it in time, traveling the widest gap of Helovia, she'd had to put several suns behind her. A difficult task for one of her rank, but they sent patrols out this far often enough. She had been watching the moon for a while now, tracing its dying glow in the sky, anticipating this very sea of darkness that descended. A new moon it was called, though she was never sure why when there was no moon at all. A dying moon, due to be reborn like a phoenix.

She had already landed in the frozen north, arriving ahead of schedule due to some favorable winds. There were few comfortable places to perch here. The vegetation was sparse, and the rocks were slick, so she stuck to the tundra ground, bracing herself between some boulders to block the ever present winter winds. Her gaze was set steadily on a tree near a slope, expectantly waiting for the 'curiosity' to arrive.

Unsure if she could expect Pirate or just something, Ampere made sure to scan the horizon. She was sure she was in the right place, but to be honest, much of this winter land seemed the same to her. She was also hungry, she realized once she got comfortable, but she couldn't risk submitting to such a fickle need and there was nothing good around anyway. Anxious, Tuor was drawn, her breath fogging up his metal shaft which danced and flickered with nearby images.

Ampere settled in for a wait, her whatching shift begun

[Set before the SWP @Thranduil ]

PIRATE

It had been a long, most boring and frustrating day. Mostly just boring. In lieu of patrols the golden had instead ‘volunteered’ to get some work done about the valley with one of the prisoners. It had been a bit of confusion given he rarely volunteered for anything, but nonetheless, he had found himself walking to the prison. Opening its doors he pulled from its shadowy depths, a slender and head heavy creature, Diesel. Even the gold raised a brow, he hadn’t exactly anticipated the creature being that pathetic looking. It was too late now though. Moving the dragging creature through the Basin they come to the Arch. They then moved a little to the side, and that’s where the work began. Well of course not for the golden! The bowed frame of Diesel labored under the pale sun, moving rocks and rolling boulders down the mountainside. For hours he worked, while the golden only occasionally helped, to take rocks from the path and line the sides, or stack them below.

Birds began to sing the end of the day, and the sun sink lower. The weak form had at least made progress, to the golden’s satisfaction. A small path, lined with stones rose a little more than fifty yards up the mountainside. It was slightly hidden, but still marked well to those who looked for it. And down at the bottom a pile of stones, and several large boulders lay ready for the next step. And the best part was, the golden never broke a sweat. The poor prisoners though hung his head low. His knees were roughed up and coat dirty, but he was at least still standing. Coming to the opening of the Arch the golden watched and waited. The sun was sinking down, and Haldir, who had been hanging about most of the day took his cue and left. He would act as a guise, and inhabit the golden’s cave alone tonight. For the Laurelin was not headed back there. Letting the weary man rest and graze the golden waited until dark.

Now he was more excited. As the moonless night progressed the golden’s smile rose. This wasn’t by any accident that it was a new moon, and he stood here with a prisoner. He looks around, checking best he could for wandering eyes. Then he gives a soft laugh and pulls from his satchel a black clock. Taking it, and threatening death for any funny business, he throws it over Diesel and quickly grabs the rope about his neck. He then dragged the slow creature to the Arch and out.

It was dangerous. But not for the reason you might think. He wasn’t worried about being caught, he was the golden after all, and each moment was carefully planned. The only trouble he had was that his precious cloak was on the back of some dirty grimy, sweat stallion. It could run off, but he doubted the creature would get far. After a full day’s work like that, and some fresh fallen snow, it would be easy to track the tired beast. This though was not meant to be a game of cat and mouse. Coming out of the Arch he moves over and down the slope towards the first row of trees on the Steppe.

They almost make it, but then, it never could be that smooth. A few yards from the tree a rush of air and cluttering crash of body and fabric falls beside him. Looking over in the near darkness of night the golden can barely make out a large indention of a fallen creature. Great, he collapsed. Mostly likely just worn. Rolling his eyes the golden puts his hoof on the rope and reaches into his satchel. Out he brings a blade. It sparks even in this low light, singing with the powers in possesses and is ready to let loose. “The whatching shift goes over on.” The reflection of the blade shimmers and images appear. Most were blank and dark, but he finally found something. A bit of blue.

With a smile the golden places the blade back and calls out in a whisper. “Pirates will brave thunderheads to see their treasure safe.” It was coded and smooth. Spoken with satisfaction, but also an edge. Now there was nothing left to do but wait, and hope somewhere in the dark a storm of thunder might meet him.


"TALK TALK TALK"
OOC::Permission given to PP Diesel

THUNDERHEAD

Night came, and Ampere's anxiety, or patience, or something gnawed on her. She felt itchy because of it, so her feet danced her weight back and forth, uncomfortable for many reasons besides the landscape. What if she misunderstood him? What if it was the wrong day, or she'd missed the moon - sometimes it looked similar on certain nights. What if this was a set up? What if-

A whisper cut through the air, whistling like an arrow to the high strung mare. Her head snapped so suddenly her neck muscles complained, but it was quickly forgotten as her blue gaze drank in the sight. Quickly she trotted out from her cover, greeting the silver pirate with something of a small grin, and relief. "Curious indeed," she tried to whisper, but in her excitement and shiver it came out like a strange hiss. Beside the golden pirate she almost couldn't see the lump of an obscured body behind him, but she managed to just catch it as her furtive gaze darted around her her familiar compatriot. Her features were quizzical, but focused.

"What treasure is this?" she questioned, leaning out to get a better look around the Laurelin. The improved sight of the half invisible stallion did little to clarify the situation for Ampere. In fact for the first several moments she was sure it was a corpse she was staring at, which didn't trouble her half as much as his impartial cadaver. "What?" she asked, gaze turning back to Pirate. Who, why... all of those questions suited the moment, but given the situation he'd roped her into, she doubted they had the time for all the answers.

She glanced towards the creature again, just then noticing the puff of air that shallowly blew from his nostrils, only visible in this snowy scenery. "If this is your idea of a gift I've little use for dead weight, though the magic trick is rather nice." The lack of blood suggested to her the stallion's body was not severed. Even if it was healed, the lack of sweat on Thranduil still promised a whole stud, but a grounded one all the same. Was this just pirate's showy way of handing over an invisibility spell? Certainly helpful, but he could have given it to her when he was last in the Throat, or at least on less secret terms.

PIRATE

A noise echoes in the still of night and the golden is drawn up high to listen. Just because the blue mare was to be about doesn’t mean she was the only one here. If one of his own herd mates found him outside with a prisoner it might be explained, but it also might not. Especially if it was a patrol. His worry was without cause though, as the electric figure slips into the small realm of his visibility. A smile brashly lifts on his face as he moves aside to show her the half exposed stallion below him.

The golden was in fact rather proud of himself. This whole venture was one he kept a very conscious mind of. WHATCH, as the blue bird had called it, was to be a group against injustice, and he had caused some of the greatest. Ever since he had loosely joined in with this mare’s fight the golden had been wary. It wasn’t that he did not feel threatened, not yet, but he also didn’t feel particularly close either. And that was a problem. If he began to feel threatened, it would be too late. So he needed to be closer, to be valued and needed. What better way that to singlehandedly deliver someone from the clutches of a most vile and unjust imprisonment.

Unfortunately it didn’t exactly get understood as such. He stood rather proud, head held high and smile gently resting, very pleased with himself, but the thunderhead was not impressed. Her tone cuts across him, and his face falls with irritation. Teeth grit and harks pin back. “You fool.” He spat, uncontrolled for a moment. He was quick to regain his restraint though. Trying to get closer, to be needed, had little room to sink his teeth in her flesh for her ignorance. Pity.

The golden, ignoring her for a moment to remind himself of why this important, reaches over and pulls off his precious cloak. Not that he dared place it on himself. After being on that dirty sweaty creature it was likely to have some disease. The gold pushed it in his satchel, he’d air it out later. Finally he turns back to the blue bird. “That is Diesel. A prisoner of the Basin.” His tone was flat, and certainly less humored than before. Still it wasn’t as harsh as before. Honestly he shouldn’t have judged so harshly. If this girl was willing to trust him then some other ideas probably also escaped her mind. Once again the golden was underestimating.

The gold reaches down and grabs at the rope in the snow and pulls at it. The ghost figure wavers but slowly rises, and the golden slips the vine off once he does, tossing it to the ground and kicking snow over it, speaking again as he does so. “You want to free the world of injustices, here ya go. Slipped out of his cell in the dead of night before his assured death for a crime of little care.” He turns back to the blue mare. “I don’t care what you do with him, but he needs to be off these slopes by morn to escape his fate, and I can not take him.” Mostly because he didn’t want to put that much effort for something so trivial and meaningless as freeing another. Don’t forget this is the golden you’re talking to. The crowned head shakes his head. “Dead weight.” He haunted a laugh. “I’m surprised at you Ampere, did think you’d change morals so quick.” He teased, his smile slipping back on. After all the fun of being a double timing sneaky bastard was too contagious to contain.





"TALK TALK TALK"
OOC::Permission given to PP Diesel

THUNDERHEAD

He responded harshly, and her ears flicked back with uncertainty and annoyance. She stilled any manner of reaction though as he continued, and the more he revealed the more she understood his situation - the manner of which no doubt had him on edge. Now was not the time for smiles or jests, so she hardened, taking on the acute edges of her warrior-nature now.

The cloak was stripped away, revealing a whole and alive stallion. "Prisoner," she whispered in response, blue eyes widened and muscles taut with energy. "Why didn't you say so!" she insisted, moving closer to the felled stallion as Thranduil stuffs his magical cover away, its usefulness forgotten now as Ampere focuses on the poor tortured soul. "You'll be okay now," she murmurs to Diesel, "you'll be, free."

Fighting the prick of tears that string at the edges of her eyes Ampere glances at the golden stag, genuine appreciation filling her features as she gazed upon his bravery. "I had no idea he was in need... thank you for this Pirate, you've saved a life." She reached out with her muzzle towards his golden shoulder, gaze dancing with elation and love and gratitude. Of all the speeches she'd made, all the allies (or enemies), no one had ever come through for her like this horse had. Everyone else agreed with her, or half so, their faith easily wavered when it suited them, but not him. He was whole, he was good, he was trustworthy because he was with her. She smiled, into his coat perhaps if he let her near, her warm breath pressing out as she exhaled a small laugh of delight.

He was right though, they didn't have much time, and his actions would do no good if Diesel was recaptured. "Thank you," she murmured again to him, softly, before turning away and sizing up the weakened stag. "Diesel," she commanded, the joy and the gentleness gone from her tone. "We've got to travel now, so focus on your feet and my voice and we'll make it out of here alive. You can run more than you think if you don't think, now let's move." She reached out a prodding nip towards the stallion to encourage his movement, falling in beside him as soon as he started, constantly shifting in front of and beside him, ears and eyes spinning as she searched for any sign of being followed.

They'd stick to the tree line as much as they could, and once they got south more cover would follow by the time the night pulled itself back. They could do this.

PIRATE

Finally the girl seemed to connect the dots, and that was a show in itself. The girl leans in and speaks with a change of tone. A gentle carefulness that whispered in kindness. He tries to contain his smirk.

Then she had to go and taint the show by turning it on him. Harks lift forward as she turns back to him, his smug smile trying its best to twist into a picture of warmth. It was a good thing it was so dark, in the plain daylight that might have been impossible. To her thanks he manages a nod. Groveling was usually rather lovely to steal from another, but in this case he found it tedious. Then she moves. The dark girl in the night comes forward, and it all well she tucks her eyes down so she missed the pinned harks he shows.

A warmth of her breath brushes over him and his taunt gold coat flinches, before she presses into him. Tasseled tail beats at his hocks and his whole frame is tense. The soft touch, the warmth being so foreign and unwanted that it did no handle it in the smoothest way. When her suffocating closeness moves away he lets out a long sigh, and seems to catch his breath. Again, it was rather lucky the night was dark. “Right, time is short.” Thankfully that did it.

The blue bird’s attention turned back to the half dead creature and the golden was most glad for it. He did enjoy the trick he was playing over the girl, quite a fun time, but given the last few minutes he was rather glad their meeting was over. “I will stay as long as I can to protect your trail. Good luck.” Oh how handsomely he said it. The gold stands under the tree for a moment, watching them go. But it was only a second after they slipped into darkness that he turns and heads up the slope. He was going to ensure his plan worked, but he wasn’t about to stand all night in the freezing snow for it. With a twisted dark grin on his face the golden slips back up into the Arch.


"TALK TALK TALK"
OOC::Thran out =D