Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

She was particularly happy for all the events that had been plaguing the lands. Perhaps it was her acceptance of herself, acceptance that the devil(her father), although fearsome he was, couldn't touch her here unless she let herself fall to his haunting hand. Still, Zandora was by no means okay. Going around and fucking Rohan and Caleb had helped--it was true, but the eerie feeling of something always watching her had not yet ceased to nonexistence. And then there was Ashamin. Oh god. He was a wound still sensitive, the bonds of their friendship ripped by a battle in the twilight of the night. Her mood soured as she realized that she was far from happy, she was a mess, although gathered slightly, she did not have herself cleaned up. Would she ever?

Fuck these thoughts. She hissed at herself, letting her violets refocus on the travels to the hotter springs of the aurora basin. For some reason, the chill got to her today, and her bones cried to be thawed. She hadn't been to the basin very often recently, but she slowly was reappearing. Slowly, yes, but surely. 

Steam rose off her destination, the hot waters calling out to her. She did not care if this was unusual, she did not care if she was going to be judged, because the things that she did care about were gone. Never to be recovered. Lowering herself into the waters, the thin arabian let the bliss of warmth spread across her cold skin. Eyes fluttered closed as she waded further into the water, the liquid swallowing up her long tresses and wiping away the dirts of her travels. For a moment, and if was to only be one, she was content. 



"Talk?"

OCC: @Johnny COME CHEER HER UP <3

Purple. Oh my kinder egg gods she was purple. Purple!! In the Basin! So I already have Tiamat and she’s going to be my best friend forever but what if we added purple to our collection of beautiful souls, our rainbow of incredibly fabulous unicorns? Honestly. I might just faint a little from the excitement.

No, gotta stay conscious. Gotta be able to walk over and go say hello. Introduce myself. Blabber over how absolutely stunning her hair was. I mean, mine is pretty damn fine - I’m a big fan of it - but hers is this incredible colour.

Oh, she’s going into the hot springs. How disappointing. Well, I can still go over and talk to her from the shore - she’s like a bubbly little mermaid in there. Oh she’ll get along perfectly with Tiamat I can’t wait.

I literally need no other reason to go over and say hello to her except for the fact that she was purple. I can’t get over it - I’m so excited to see more bright colours in this home of mine. My little red hooves are dancing as I approach the springs and there’s a little jig before I can force myself to actually stand still on the shores. I don’t get too close, of course, for fear of falling in - but there’s really no need. I have every faith that I will be noticed - I mean, she may be all black and purple and gorgeous but I am all white and red and pink and fabulous so. No one can overlook me.

And I’m in a significantly more cheerful mood now that the weather is cooling down some.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, my dear!” Hmm I had been yelled at for greeting a mare like that in the Basin once maybe I should watch it. I don’t want to scare her off. She’s a little ways away from the shore, maybe she doesn’t want to be disturbed, but I wasn’t one for taking hints. Hints make things too easy and I like everything to be right out in the open. “Wonderful day for a soak, no?” Not that I would know but I’m trying to be friendly. Trying to ease my way into the ‘your hair is beautiful’ comment that was just bursting within me.

johnny
You are my lollipop

Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

She had escaped into a realm of wonderings and ponderings, thinking to hard to stay in the state of contentness that she had tried so hard to reach. The recent events of life weren't anything spectacular, but that was the thing, there was nothing to them. She felt as if her life had become bland, missing the spark that used to keep her going. There were heights, like going around and fucking, but those were long gone and in the end they hadn't gotten her anywhere, it was just a mere distraction. The heights in her life were drowned by the constant lows, she wanted the easier days back. The days of exhilaration, fun, and wild rogueness. Why was it so hard, to want something so simple? But perhaps that her wish wasn't simple at all--no it was damned near impossible

The words of another sucked her out of herself, her closed eyes sliding open to see who had said such a thing. The man belonging to the voice was of whites and reds. To her, he looked like some sort of Christmas present or candy cane, the colors all bright and vivid. Although she was at some sort of peace(if you could consider that peace) she still laughed at his words, shaking her horned head at such a thought. "What has caused your eyes to be so sore?" She asked, feeling no need to be rude to the peppermint boy. She had almost forgotten she was in the hot springs of the basin, her body being completely encompassed by it's bliss until he brought it to her attention. Nodding her head, the vixen rose from the warm waters, steam dancing off sleek, satin skin. Her hair fell in wet waves, dripping away the last of the basin warmth. "Indeed. I was particularly chilled today." She said, purple orbs then meeting green, "Zandora."


"Talk?"

OCC: @Johnny yay happy person in white and red

She was cute, I gotta admit it. I wasn’t entirely sure if she was serious when she was asking me what caused my eyes to be sore - it being a figure of speech and all - but there actually was a reason. “Oh, all the boring ol’ grumpy farts that live around here.” I was certainly rapidly becoming an old fart myself but I liked to think I would never be boring or grumpy. How could I be? All I had to do was lick my nose or my leg and PRESTO sugar rush! But at least I - and the lovely lady in my company - were not boring. No earth tones weighed us down with the permafrost soil, we’d never camouflage with anything in this world. And how utterly delightful was that? I certainly never wanted to be missed.

I step back a little bit, to give her room to exit the springs without bumping into me. She’s even more gorgeous now that she’s all steaming and dripping with hot water.

Hot water that could turn me into soup I keep reminding myself. Don’t get too close, no matter how beautiful she is!

“It does get awfully chilly around here, but you get used to it.” I was used to it right away but apparently pointing that out is “inconsiderate”. Not everyone requires cold weather to be able to stay a solid form. Not that that stops me from imagining what flavour everyone else is when I meet them. Still not quite set on the mare before me - grape just isn't purple enough.

Then she says a word and I must admit, it made me pause for a minute. Was Zandora her name or was it a word I had never heard before? Was it in another language which just wouldn’t be fair - purple hair and a sweet tongue to go with it - and if so what did it mean. “Pleasure to meet you Zandora, my name’s Johnny - the Weaver.” What? No, I’m not showing off. I just like the way the title sounds after my name. Adds some strength to it - with all these alien sounding names all around. “Have you been in the Basin long?”

johnny
You are my lollipop

Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

The sugar stallion answered her question, his answer bringing a short chuckle from onyx lips. She agreed with his words though, it did seem like the basin had become withered, a gloomy sadness always surrounding the icy mountaintops, even though she added to the dullness. So many she had met seemed to be overloaded with the weights on their shoulders, a certain black and white stallion popping up in her clouded thoughts. Shaking her head, she did not further examine the topic, wanting only to forget about the colorlessness of the frozen lands, and him.

Her thoughts are thankfully wished away at the chords of the white. Zandora loved the basin, the crispness of the air, the treacheries, the auroma, but the cold was something she never was used too, never would be. Her body had accepted the absence of heat, but her mind would only think about the presence of it. The feeling still reminded her of the burning heat of hell, of her awful father's layer in the depths of the underworld. It seemed that Helovia was just a world of triggers, a bullet wound being poked each time her past was violently shot at her. A certain gust of wind enveloped her with cold, and her body began to shake despite her attempts to conceal it. The warmth of the waters mixed with the coldness of the air to create a army of needles upon black skin, perhaps she had not so welly thought it through. Sighing at her obliviousness, she attempted to distract herself with conversation. 

"Damned weather, I wish I had a coat like those drafts." She muttered with a shrug. Her arabian lineage gifted her with lots, but her body was made for the dunes and sands,
mountains and snow did not exist anywhere in her blood. His name was given then, and the peppermint stallion became Johnny of the thread. She had never met a crafter before, curiosity sparking in her eyes as he too asked of her. "It is neat that you craft, what can you make?" She questioned, purple orbs trained on the greens and reds of Johnny. His questioned stumped her momentarily, her time here seemed to have so quickly passed, so quickly gone.

"I don't know"

It was at this moment that she felt more lost then ever before, eyes turning down as she tried to hide away the pains, not wanting the sweet man to see such sadness, such darkness. Zandora could not pretend to be a light, joyous person, for she was a shadow, and the darkness is apart of her, all of her.











"Talk?"

OCC: @Johnny well this ended strangely....

Well, ‘I don’t know’ is certainly an odd answer to the question I had asked and she got all weird when she said it too, my sweet purple gal - looking away and being all upset. That just won’t do! I frown a little bit, which my face does not like I mean I don’t keep this body looking as smooth as it does by going and getting frowny lines now do I? I want to cheer her up but I don’t have anything with me to do that beside my glorious self so I guess I’m just going to have to talk to her some more until she smiles again.

I don’t have any of my crafting materials directly near me, which was a shame, but I was already thinking about how I could go and find some to make her something to keep her warm.

While I think about that, I answer her question with as much gusto and enthusiasm as I can muster because she simply has gotta smile again. “Oh, all sorts of things, really! I could even make you a blanket to keep you warm, if you’d like!” It wouldn’t keep all of the chill out but I could TOTALLY do something that would help. Not everyone was built to live in the rugged mountains like myself, you know. I was born for fresh air and rocky slopes, for hard manual labour and roaring fires with a bearskin rug placed luxuriously in front. Great big log cabins that I built myself and can shut myself up in and get away from it all!

No, well... I was built for the cold.

But while my mind is focusing on those odd things, my mouth kept prattling off all the things I could do. “I can Blankets and bags and cloaks (which between you and me look just like the blankets). I’m sure there’s more but those are the stuff I know for sure, I’m still trying to figure out as I go along!” There was probably a whole world of things I could make and what did our beloved leaders ask me to do? Clean out a prison. Ugh. It's enough to make a grown sugar-stallion cry.

“So if you ever need anything, you let me know my dear!” If this cheerful talk about crafting doesn't do the trick to bring Zandora out of her funk I'm going to have to try more drastic measures. Stay tuned.

johnny
You are my lollipop

Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

A smile is brought to her face as the cheerful man brings up something to keep the warm that seemed to be escaping her, in. It was quite neat to her that he could craft such things, Zandora would have absolutely zero ability to do anything, besides maybe mold some mud? But that would sure be a disaster, the Arabian would hate to get sticky sludge all over her coat and hooves. The thought disgusted her, and she left the musings of a crafter to the crafters. Her eyes perked up ever so slightly, words slipping from numb lips, "You could really do that?" She asked, shocked that a stranger would offer her of all people a service. Perhaps if she stopped looking at all the darkness here, she would see that there was so much more light.

He tells her of the endless possibilities that crimson hooves could create, and she listens, her attention now completely undivided. The gesture might be a small(or big) one to Johnny, but he had no idea how much it meant to purple and onyx, she would forever respect the peppermint stallion. Her respect was not easily given, she would hope that he wouldn't betray such loyalties. "Well I couldn't do much, but provide company in your endeavors or help collect things, but just as you have offered to help me I will return it, if you'd ever wish for my help." She offers, believing strongly in a debt system. The mare would not perish with a debt unpaid, it was why she was so uptight with loyalties. She almost preferred not to be given gifts, because it meant she would have to return such an act. It was what she was expected when she was a child, and now grown up, she has not forgotten the time when she did not return a favor.

"Would a cloak be within your reach?" She questions letting the horrors slip away before they become distractingly vivid. Her feet begun to prance in place as she did her best to get the blood flowing, fuck it was cold. Why must unicorns have to be so goddamn stuck up? The deserts would suit her much better, but no, the horned must live in the most dangerous and cold places.









"Talk?"

OCC: she loves johnny

Though we may have just met, I believe in fast-tracking friendships. I get along with Zandora so duh, we’re friends and of course I would help her out with something! Especially if she’s cold, I mean - I’m not heartless. I understand that not everyone thrives in the winter weather like I do because it’s literally about survival for me - I’ll melt anywhere else! Literally a self-preservation technique. And I feel bad for this sweet, purple-maned mare because she really did not look comfortable in the chilly air. I imagine that emerging from the hot springs only made the temperature difference all that harder to bear!

So yes, before the real cold of Frostfall set and we were all snowed into this kingdom I think there’s definitely something that I can do about it to help.

PLUS she’s sweet enough to help me gather materials and god, I love her even more for that. I beam back at her at the offer and even dip my head a little bit because it might just be a little gesture but it really was wonderful of her. We’re totally going to be the best of friends! “Your company and friendship is all I need! I’d love to have your company when I’m out looking for materials. It can be a rather boring job.”

Sure I can sing and talk to myself but it’s just not the same. When she asked whether a cloak was going to be possible I nodded enthusiastically.  “I would love to make one for you! If you want to follow me back to the crafting cave I can whip one up for  you right now!” I motioned in the direction of the mountain, which housed the caves we used for shelters, and waited for her response before moving off. I had enough good stock of fleece in there to get her something nice and warm!

Once we were there, I fumbled through my dwindling stores (I was really going to need to go do some scouting soon) and find some choice fleece that I could use for Zandora. "You ready for this?" I ask, filled with delight, before focusing on the mass of goat hair. Tapping into that incredible store of magic (Time God, you da bomb) I weave it into a cloak that could settle onto her back and keep her warm in the upcoming seasons. Once finished, I let it settle on the ground so she can get a good look. We might need to spruce it up a bit with some colour later, but for a start? It was pretty fantastic. "What do you think?"

johnny
You are my lollipop

Zandora

Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I'm dying

He seems delighted at her offer and she was glad that she had offered her help, for seeing someone so happy, so carefree and joyed warmed the achingly colds of her heart. Johnny's happiness was contagious, and she couldn't help but let go of some of the things holding her down, wanting to feel such beautiful emotions that surrounded the candy man. She returned his respectful gesture, a feeling of reverence to Johnny also resting within her chest. She quite enjoyed his company, and would have no problem traveling with him to gather such things that crafter's gathered. "I could imagine. It must be lonely." She speaks, hating the word lonely, for the very feeling of it was destructive.

She is continuously surprised as the kind man yet again tends to her needs, offering to make the cloak right away. She smiles then, the first real, joyed smile that had escaped her lips in quite a while. "Yes of course! Thank you so much Johnny!" She says enthusiastically, a lightness seeping into her facade. She follows him with a bit of pep in her step, whether it was the cold that quickened her steps of the floating feeling that surrounded her, Zandora was happy.

He leads her into the cave and Zandora's purples soaks in the crafter's work, watching with amazement as he weaves the cloak together with some sort of crafting magic she assumed. She nods her head as he questions her, continuing to watch the peppermint work. Rather quickly, he is finished and a beautiful cloak lay in the floor. Overwhelmed with a feeling she was so unused too, Zandora reaches out, wishing to hug him in her thanks(she is dry now). "I love it, thank you once again. You have no idea what it means to me." She said softly, reaching down and putting the cloak on her back as the warmth of the fleece instantly warmed her.












"Talk?"

OCC: she loves johnny