the Rift


[PRIVATE] we are just breakable boys and girls

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#1

This was long overdue.

Not in the sense that Alysanne had told anyone her plans to seek Mauja out several seasons ago when she first thought of it - when he had first been hurt - but in the sense that she knew she had failed because she hadn’t sought him out. What sort of doctor just didn’t do a follow up after the trauma of the magma burns? She had been selfish, caught up in her own fear and anger, when all of that should have been secondary to make sure that he was okay. Although from the glimpses she had of him in the Edge since then, he did seem remarkably healed from that little incident, but the wounds on the surface did not always tell those beneath.

And even with her quest from the Moon Goddess forever a shadow on her mind, reminding her that she needed to refuse healing to someone, Alysanne couldn’t. When he had called out for a doctor to help Myrinne as she gave birth, she had seen that there were some injuries, and she had every intention on following up on her promise to come find him and see to them.

Maybe, if she actually spoke to him, the final lingering tendrils of her jealousy and anger she felt toward him would dissipate.

“Help me find him, Hem?” She asked of the small owl, looping through woods lit by the setting sun. With a grunt and a small word of complaint he flew off to oblige. Once Hemlock had been excited about meeting other owls but Mauja’s hadn’t seemed very interested in meeting him on the brief (and chaotic) moments that they had actually been in the same vicinity. But he supposed since Alysanne wanted to find the spotted stallion, he’d help her out.

These thoughts shared through their bond had Alysanne rolling her eyes with a smile before she began to pick slowly through the forest. The chances of just happening to run into the former queen didn’t seem strong but she’d try this evening, and then try again the next until she got her chance.

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star



I've only been meaning to post a thread for them for months but there's absolutely no rush to reply and if you're not up for it at all we can just nix it <333
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
He was by the Edge.

The sun was setting, a fiery wash of red and orange streaking across the foaming backs of waves, and rushing in towards the limestone cliffs. It glinted off of the back of some marine creature arcing up to the surface, glittered in a spray of water as the animal fell back down into the sea, and cast long shadows behind the ethereal stallion. The dying light painted his face with warm, soft tones of peach, and hung like a halo around his long hair.

But his eyes were as blue as they ever were, cast into darkness by his forelock, and in the shadow of himself the contrast gave his skin an icy tint. A few lonely gulls wheeled out over the water, their thin wings weaving slightly to keep them afloat in the air. Mauja watched them with a thoughtful expression.

Not much moved. His sides rose and fell to the slow rhythm of his breathing. The breeze toyed with his silken mane and tail. And his eyes followed the gulls in their slow, purposeful hunt.

Just ahead of him was a drop into oblivion. The tips of his front hooves nearly touched the air.

A long, long time ago, a single, lonely gull had done something to his heart. It had cried in the darkness of the night, ghosted upon its thin, slender wings above the muted waves, and hunted beneath the starlight—and onto that gull he had poured his pain, his love, his care.

It had been easier to pour it on a gull, than pour it on his daughter standing in the shallows. And after all these years, he could still see them both, perfect in his mind's eye, the sharp wash of moonlight glittering like halos around them. What had become of the gull he didn't know.

But his daughter had met her fate on a foreign shore. Mauja closed his eyes. He had neglected her. All her life, he had neglected her, and his attempts of making up for it had always come up short. When he thought he did the right thing, it was wrong. When he thought things were fine, they weren't.

The finality of the fact that he had run out of chances was a slow poison in his veins, and a weight in his heart. "Mér þykir leitt," he whispered to the the wind—the sunset—the world—to her.

And a gull of fire burst from his chest and soared out far over the waves.

[ I'm just sad I took forever in replying. D; @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#3

Fortune favoured Alysanne this evening and it was not long before her companion’s baritone voice ‘By the cliffs.’ Came Hemlock’s report as he swooped out of the trees nearby and then down along their side to hunt out the insects coming with the night.

Had Alysanne been more aware of the ex-queen’s mental state as of late, this phrase would have surely sent a shiver of fear through her body and bade her move faster. As it was, she just changed her direction and made her way over toward those rocky cliffs. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the setting sun or actual fire but as she emerged from the trees she fancied she saw something fiery soaring out over the waves. But her attention turned from the beautiful sunset to the ghostly white stallion standing on the edge.

“Mauja?”

Her voice was quiet and her movements cautious - wary of being told to go away, unwilling to interrupt private thoughts when she had no right. They weren’t friends, after all. Perhaps they could be, and she realized she wouldn’t mind it, but for now they were only herd mates, bound together by the love for one filly.

Providing her presence was welcome - or at the very least tolerated - she came to stand beside him with a few feet of space between them. She felt wary in his presence and uncertain, that once friendly and exuberant side of her personality having been chipped away in the recent years. It was easy to falsify it for strangers but for the others she was stuck in a strange limbo, wanting nothing more than to try to brighten his day but uncertain about how to go about it.

“You know, if you were to fall I’d dive in after you.” She commented quietly instead, her green eyes on the waves below with only a ghost of a sad smile on her expression. It might have been a joke at another time, from another mouth and in another company, but even as she spoke it sobered her further.  

It was true, of course - in regards to all manners of cliffs, from the physical to the mental. However limited their bond was, it was at least strong enough to ensure that fact for her and she would have him know it, if he ever had a need of her.

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
“Mauja?”

Who are you, come to haunt me? One black-rimmed ear turned back, listening, taking in the hesitant question embedded in his name. It was a familiar voice, but not one he knew by heart, and simply seeing the shadow at the edge of his vision wasn't enough. Locking up his heart again, Mauja turned his head. Ah. It was Alysanne.

And it suddenly struck him that he had never paid much attention to her—of course, he knew her name, the basics of her appearance, her position as Naerys' mother and Moon Doctor of the herd... If he racked his brains he could come up with more, little tidbits, snippets of information, but in the end, it was all meaningless. Useless. Worthless, without having a sense of the soul it embodied.

So it was in silence that he studied her, looking at her, from the point of her black muzzle to the white tip of her tail. She wore a glass headband, a little glass heart upon it, resting against a symmetrical star. And there—by the powerful wing joints, were those scars? Pink, hairless lines rent the white fur, but with her wings folded it was hard to tell their extent. The frown marring his face was brief, a shadow ghosting across his blue eyes—merely ripples upon the surface of a pond before the stillness claimed him again. Slowly, his gaze fell from the bright green of her eyes and to the moss-covered limestone upon which she stood. You have secrets, he thought, tail flicking once. There was definitely more to Alysanne than she gave away.

“You know, if you were to fall I’d dive in after you.”

He said nothing—at least, not immediately. Instead, he simply looked over the edge again, to the blue-and-iron ocean washing up against the fragile cliffs. It was a long fall. It was a long, uncertain fall, for who knew which rocks lay deceptively under the waves? How deep could a body plummet into the waters before being smashed upon them? But, he thought as he stared into the sea, if he jumped, she could glide, and where he would crash, she could just .. touch down. He let out a sigh. "Why?" he finally asked, voice soft. What was he to her?

[ lmfao writing in the edgelord internet browser, "Microsoft Edge", everything is so fucked up @Alysanne SAVE ME ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#5

With a flush of self-consciousness, Alysanne shuffled uncomfortably when she thought Mauja was looking at the scars that marked her wing - thankful for how the appendage hid most of them. With luck, he wouldn’t be the curious sort - the type to ask questions about scars and history.

The question that the spotted unicorn did ask wasn’t out of the ordinary and more welcome. Why indeed? They were practically strangers, bound together with a few tentative strings involving their home and a darling girl. Her smile was soft in her green eyes as she looked at him with her answer. “Because I’m a doctor, because you are my daughter’s friend, because you’re a herd-mate...” But really, it was much more simple than that: “Because that’s who I am.” For better or for worse, she was the mare that would dive off a cliff to save someone she barely knew. She would even do it for a complete stranger!

Her gaze drifted then, as though pulled to the ocean far below where their hooves rested on the cliffs, and that small smile faded. “I’m the one who jumps off cliffs to save someone, even when I cannot fly properly - even when on a quest and charged with refusing help to an injury…” She trailed off there, frowning at herself. She hadn’t spoken of the quest to anyone else and, really, she had no idea whether she was supposed to mention it at all. For over a year it had vexed her and yet, without hesitation, each time she came across someone that needed healing she came to their aid. She knew that this was why she had been charged with such a quest - it would hardly be one if she found it easy - and the words of the Moon Goddess still rang in her ears - about how refusing one would save more with her new magic. She knew these things and still, in the moment whenever it came, she could not yet find the strength to refuse.

Thoughts of her unfinished quest soured her expression and mood. Despite the second chance she had been given by the Moon Goddess she still felt a failure. “I’m the fool who cares enough about all she meets that she’d not see them come to any harm under her watch.”

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Curiosity was a powerful and damning thing. He had so easily written off Alysanne as a character simply on the sidelines in his life, a stable constant, impersonal, distant, not allowing her to become a part of his day-to-day life. And he didn't even know why anymore—aside from being a tad overbearing towards Naerys (then again, that was his default assumption of all parents who actually gave a fuck about their kids), had she ever done anything to warrant it..? She had just been there, ordinary, plain, not quite as exotic or intriguing as some others, and besides, when he had first returned to the Edge his thoughts had been full of another black-and-white mare.

And as far as overbearing mothers went, she hadn't really told him off for hanging around with Naerys, had she? Not like Ophelia, who had explicitly said that if he ever did anything untoward or harmful towards Roskuld she'd come after him.

But now, here, with the wind blowing around him and the evening sun blazing in the sea, it was like someone removed a blindfold and handed him a sign saying "Alysanne is a real person too". And how many others in the herd had he sidelined in the same fashion? Was there a difference between simply not seeking them out, and just .. not finding them interesting enough to seek out?

How much would he have missed Alysanne's presence, if she had just disappeared from the herd? Personally, not so much—but as a cornerstone of the herd, and the Doctors? Definitely.

“Because I’m a doctor, because you are my daughter’s friend, because you’re a herd-mate...”

It almost made him feel guilty, now that she had sought him out—whether it was on a whim because she had seen him, or something more deliberate—and spoke to him. (Now that he had seen her scars.) “Because that’s who I am.”

He wished he could say something, anything, and finish it with that sentence: because that's who I am.

But he couldn't.

Because he didn't know who he was.

So his gaze traveled from the gentle green of her eyes back to the sea and the sun, tail flicking once more. It always surprised him how straight the horizon was where the sky met the ocean.

He wanted to say something—anything. To give her a reason not to jump after him (because he wasn't worth it), because he would be fine on his own. To let her know there was never any reason to risk herself for him, because he would be fine. He didn't have any choice but to be fine.

Yet, he said nothing. The words were like gravel in his mouth, the truth a rock he couldn't spit out—I am immortal, Alysanne.

She went on, without prompting. Her voice turned less content, but without knowing her, he hesitated to call it bitter. (If it had been him, it would've been.) And these were just like her scars, hidden, out of sight, only shown because they tumbled out of her mouth. "You have wings, yet you do not fly," was all he said for a moment, his voice carefully neutral, but it was there, in the small things—in the faint disappointment ghosting along the words, the sadness glinting in his eyes.

He didn't even have wings, and here she was, wide feathered appendages and all, and she didn't use them.

What the fuck.

The world was a cruel place.

“I’m the fool who cares enough about all she meets that she’d not see them come to any harm under her watch.” He almost began to suspect she was purging something—an old wound, hot and swollen with this touch of venom, the scab coming off when she finally began to scratch it. His ears moved, and then his head, until he was looking straight at her. Had she planned this, or had the words merely started to tumble out? "Alysanne," he said, softly, "you are not a fool." What else could he say? She was brave enough to risk herself to save another, brave enough to follow her call, but maybe—maybe not brave enough to give it her everything. He didn't know what she was questing for, or who gave it to her, but somewhere, it seemed compassion and morals locked her mind from thinking one step ahead.

"What is your quest?"

[ @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#7

Although Mauja’s tone was mostly neutral, Alysanne fancied that she heard enough judgement from him, as though she had shared some despicable secret that personally offended him on some level. “I feel more comfortable with my hooves on the ground.” She replied defensively, those pale feathers ruffling slightly as she spoke - like rising hackles - but she took care to keep (most of) the edge out of her voice - which was made easier by her stubbornly keeping her eyes on the ocean and sky. “I didn’t ask to have wings.” She knew it was strange to others that she didn’t fly, but she didn’t understand why it was so noteworthy for them. What did it matter if she flew or not? How were they impacted by that fact in the slightest?

There was much that she wished for in this world but she did not hold a grudge against those who had what she did not.

Alysanne was still learning that just because she did not do something that did not mean others wouldn’t.

His soft insistence that she was not a fool brought a sad smile to her eyes as she shook her head, replying in an equally soft voice. “Oh Mauja. How do you know I’m not a fool?” This was the first actual conversation she had ever had with him - that she could recall, anyway. And so far all she had done was ramble and burden him with too long of an answer to a short question. If that wasn’t foolish, she didn’t know what was.

Although she rarely minded sharing such personal facts, she might have chosen better company to do so - someone that was more friend than a glancing acquaintance. She felt a strange bond to the pale stallion, forge undoubtedly in part because of her daughter and because of how she had helped to heal him from a severe wound.

Not that she needed much to form bonds but it was there nonetheless, whether they both wished it or not.

When he asked about her quest, Alysanne hesitated - uncertain of how much she should share - but decided to share enough that she might at least try to show why she had brought it up during her rant. “For the ability to transfer the pain of others onto myself, the Moon Goddess has asked me for tasks that require causing harm to others.” A brief summary, but still true. To refuse healing to someone in need, to injure someone she cares about, and to receive injuries herself without any healing. The last should have been the easiest - if it wasn’t for Tembovu and Iona stubbornly demanding that she heal herself when she was injured. She’d have to be smarter about receiving injuries and concealing them, lest some hard-headed king or well-meaning sister use them as leverage against her again. “They are wisely appointed tasks, and I know that the sooner I complete them the more I will be able to help those around me.” Or, at least, she knew that now after another conversation with the Goddess. “It’s just… when it comes to the moment for my actions… I falter.” The problem of sacrificing the health and wellbeing of one in the present to save many in the future was, theoretically, a simple problem. Until Alysanne was face-to-face with the one she should refuse to heal.

She wondered if this was further proof for her bearing the label of a ‘fool’, wondered what Mauja would do in her stead. But instead of asking that or any of the other questions that danced around her mind, she asked another entirely. “Have you ever done a quest?”

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star


@Mauja
I got tired of the brown and now after dinner I'm gonna go change them all so they match  :|
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
“I feel more comfortable with my hooves on the ground.”

I have no choice but to have them on the ground.

“I didn’t ask to have wings.”

"I didn't ask to not have them," he merely replied, heart beating faster, eyes still on the distant horizon and the swelling sea. His voice was schooled to neutrality, a bit too cold, a bit too regretful, if she knew how to listen for it. And, if it wasn't because it was about flight and he was a stubborn ass, he wasn't sure he would've replied at all—the whole exchange bewildered him slightly. Why did she get so defensive? And why did he get so defensive? What did it matter, that her wings hadn't been her choice? Even if she had begged and pleaded with her creators to not have them, and still got them, he would've been jealous of the damn things! It wasn't about her, it wasn't about her choice to remain with all four hooves anchored on the ground—it was about him, and the old, old envy throbbing like an old wound. It was about what he wanted, and couldn't have.

He was getting tangled up in it, again—'you have no right' screaming along the lining of his skull, a thousand apologies and explanations that he didn't care what she did with her wings, just that it was a kind of abstract sadness, an abstract longing, just.. something.

He had known from the start that the world wasn't fair. Hells, he had shunned the Pegasus race when he had first come into contact with it—loathed them for the grotesque appendages sprouting from their powerful shoulders.

And look at him now, standing forlorn upon the edge of a cliff, wishing for little more but to be able to fly.

“Oh Mauja. How do you know I’m not a fool?” Mauja let out a soft, soft sigh. He wasn't sure if it was patronizing or just .. curious, but he felt very much like she had patted him on the head and said 'good boy, but no, that's an orange, not an eggplant', like, was he that blind? That stupid? Or was she simply mired in the same darkness which had claimed him? And better yet—how did he know?

He didn't. So what had he achieved? He had somehow insulted her by voicing something he had never even dared breathe in the company of another before, and then he had apparently been all wrong about her, too. Way to go, Mauja. Way to go. That cliff, you know? If not because you'd feel guilty about her getting hurt when you're going to survive regardless, just walking off it is getting kind of tempting—

"I don't," he replied, bluntly, thinking of the little sad smile that had ghosted along in her green eyes, thinking how it, and calling herself a fool, seemed so out of sorts with the Alysanne which had lived in the borderlands of his mind. "But caring for others does not make you a fool." And that, at least, was not something he was going to let her argue with. It didn't matter if they didn't want her to care, if they were strangers, enemies, friends—caring was.. never bad, not really, not in this world.

He found his gaze wandering again, as he listened to her voice. She wanted to transfer the pain of others onto herself?

But why?

Wouldn't that just.. put her in pain? And what was she going to do, then? Be a martyr? Join herself at the hip with a healer? Or was this all some plan for some grandiose martyr's death? (He did a double take; did she have a death wish?) Was she hoping he'd hop off the edge so she could fall in after him, remembered as someone who died in the hopes of saving another?

And just how guilty would he feel about that? But just as his thoughts ran away, so did time, and his thoughtful silence was broken by a question. "No," he replied absently. It hadn't stopped the Gods from fucking with him, though, but he chose not to think of that. "Why do you wish to be able to transfer pain onto yourself?"

[ @Alysanne .. first time I typo'd her name as "Alyssane" and then I was like waitwatno that doesn't look right... and then I wrote Alysanen in the post... ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#9

“I didn’t ask not to have them.” Came his reply and Alysanne snorted lightly, a small smile forming. Of course he hadn’t - she knew that. “Perhaps we could trade.” She offered, uselessly, but with a small amount of humour so that it was almost a joke. It wasn’t Mauja’s fault that her unwillingness to fly was a sore spot - it drew questions and odd looks whenever it came up and at some point, it stopped being fun repeating the same explanations over and over again.

She didn’t say anything further on the subject of being a fool. Sometimes the depth to which she cared about others made her feel foolish - it had certainly gotten her into trouble more than once (not to mention it had gotten her pregnant twice).

But his question about why she wanted to be able to transfer pain to herself certainly required a proper answer. Alysanne had never really thought about the why of asking for such a magic - it just made sense to her. Why wouldn’t she want to take on some of the pain of those around her, to make their lives easier? Even temporarily.

Perhaps her explanation would help show Mauja just how much of a fool she was.

Shuffling her hoof momentarily along the rocky ground, kicking a small pebble over the cliff edge, Alysanne’s gaze was back out at sea as she started but was eventually gravitated to Mauja. Her voice was pensive and quiet, as she tried to find the best way to explain this need within her. “I guess… it comes down to just wanting to help everyone. It’d be a temporary thing - so that when I heal them, or when they are healed by someone else, they can be relieved of the pain of their injury until there’s no injury left for there to be pain from.” She wondered if that made any sense and watched Mauja for his reaction. The Moon Goddess had been baffled at her request as well but it seemed so simple to Alysanne - to give everything she had (though perhaps, not yet her life) to help when she could.

She wanted to be the pain-reliever, the drug, that eased someone into recovery.

So she used an example she thought he might understand. “I could have used it that day in the Deep Forest. Taken some of your pain onto myself to calm you, to make it easier while we were healing...” Although the idea of that seared flesh and the pain associated with it scared her, she would have taken it without a second thought.

She didn’t even know if she was strong enough to handle that much pain. Would it be worse than what the demon had done to her body and mind the day he left the scars along her side and neck? There was a sick sense of curiosity that followed those thoughts so she quickly banished them, returning her attention to Mauja and his burn-less body.  “But you seem to have healed just fine.” Her tone was more curious than accusatory - she was glad to see that he wasn't bearing the effects of that night. And although there had been rumours about the Moon Goddess' visit to the Edge, Alysanne hadn't known what she had come for.

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star


@Mauja
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
He hadn't expected to be dragged into the conversation—not in such a concrete, tangible way, at least. Her explanation seemed—

flimsy.

It was the only way he could describe it. Why take the pain away, and rely on someone else to heal them, when she could simply heal them instead? Pain was an uncomfortable truth of life, pain was a part of life, just as important as happiness, contentment, sorrow—he had had more than his fair share of pain and sorrow, and the scars to show for it. Twice he had been on the brink of death, and twice he had pulled through. And, wasn't the removal of pain as backwards as his immortality? He no longer had cause to fear death—he could throw himself into silly fights because, as far as he knew, even if they chopped him up to pieces and burned them, he'd still bloody exist in some backwards manner. It had stolen half of his need for caution, for care, removed any and all reasons to take care of himself—and without pain, what was left? If they could charge into battle, if they could stumble and get bruised, and just—be numbed?

He opened his mouth, prepared to—argue? Was that rude of him, to suggest she put her soul to better uses?

But he didn't get very far, not a single word passing his lips as she spoke again, green eyes solemn, on him. “I could have used it that day in the Deep Forest. Taken some of your pain onto myself to calm you, to make it easier while we were healing...”

That Day.

That second time he had almost died, that day when fire and shadow had merged into a single, destructive beast—a charred, molten creature, magma shining through tar-dark cracks as it charged at him. All of Tembovu's rage, all of Tembovu's sorrow, bundled up in a searing, hot body wreaking havoc on mortal flesh.

His mouth closed, blue eyes troubled, as he stared out at sea again. He didn't remember much after the beast had hit him—just darkness, and silence, a paralyzing agony in which every trembling heartbeat had throbbed through his entire body. His owls remembered more, though. They remembered the silence he had been shocked into, before his lungs had started moving again. They remembered how Diego had given up and fallen onto Tembovu; how Irma had screamed with a pain not her own—and how, finally, Mauja had screamed, too.

“But you seem to have healed just fine.”

He felt weak. Sick. As if his knees would buckle any moment and send him pitching over the edge, falling, at last, into the embrace of the sea—

"My rugged appearance was an affront to the Lady Moon," he replied, lightly, too lightly, eyes racing from one end of the horizon to the other, and back again, unseeing.

How do you say to someone, that you would rather have kept your pain? How do you say to someone, that pain is as much a part of you as your legs are? How do you say to someone, that taking the pain away, takes the sincerity out of the action?

Or was that just him being strange?

"Pain..." he rumbled after a moment, before falling into thoughtful silence for a second or so. His gaze had stilled, fallen to the foaming waves and the drifting sheets of mist curling in the air. "We should not be afraid of pain. It teaches us things, things that can't be taught softly, gently, in ways only a sharp pebble or a bruise can—I am..." He hesitated, as the sadness in his pale eyes crystallized into the icy shield which hid his heart. "I am not sure I would have wanted you to take my pain that day," he finally said, quietly. "It became a part of me, part of my life, and—to have taken it, even just some of it, would have been a very private kind of theft. It hurt more than I have words for, but it was still my pain." The words I'm sorry danced temptingly upon his tongue.

After a moment, he snorted. "But I guess not everyone is as mad as I am."

[ @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#11

The Moon Goddess had healed him? Alysanne wondered why but didn’t say anything - it was hardly any of her business. She was glad for the divine intervention anyway, glad that someone had been able to heal him properly. It shouldn’t have happened at all and now the treacherous effects of Tembovu’s rage had been hidden from the eyes but still, she had worried for Mauja after they had only been able to do so much. That was why she had come to find him today - well, tonight as the sun was sinking deeper into the horizon.

“You sound like her.” Alysanne snorted as Mauja started to explain to her the necessity of pain, her tail flicking briefly in agitation. The Moon Goddess had similar objections and views when the subject of this magic had been first brought up. Pain was important, pain was needed, but then why gift the Edge healers with magic? As a Moon Doctor, Alysane had healed a great number of others and part of that meant she was taking away her pain, did it not? She had saved a few mares from bleeding out after difficult births, given energy to someone in the midst of battle, fixed scrapes and burns and knit flesh back together. Not once had she been accused of robbing someone from lessons as she did so.

How was the magic she sought any different? She had been living in the Edge for almost four years now and knew how quickly the herd could shift and change. If there was ever a day when she was not a Moon Doctor, she did not wish to be helpless.

She did not explain such things to Mauja - she didn’t want to argue about this further with him (she had already spoken too much of herself to this near-stranger, had she not?). She was tired of trying to defend what she believed was right.

A frown darkened her green eyes as she tried to comprehend what Mauja was saying. It was just pain to her - something that should be temporary - and it was lost on her the sentiment that he was trying to convey that it was personal and that she would have stolen something private from him that day. She had refused to heal herself after her spar, kept the pain and the wound as a reminder not to be so foolish again, but surely that was different? How could the idea of losing pain be so personal to Mauja?

Finally, as she watched him instead of the horizon, she admitted quietly. “I don’t understand that sentiment… but I don’t think that makes you mad.”

But just then another thought flickered into her mind and it caused that frown to give way to a smile, her tone light and teasing as she stretched out the wing closest to him in an attempt to nudge him lightly. “I’m sure we could find other evidence that you could be, though.”


*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star


@Mauja
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
"I guess I've lived here too long," he replied, crassly, absently in a way as his soul fled out to sea.

She didn't know, did she? And for once, it wasn't his fucking immortality he was thinking about, it was his past—did she know that he had lived here a long, long time ago? Ruled here, before Kahlua had re-instated him? Did she know anything of who he had been, what he had done? And with his thoughtless admission, would it set her thinking? Would she say, oh, but compared to me, you've not been here long at all, have you?

And maybe he hadn't—his tenure had lasted less than a year. How long had he been here, now? How long since Kahlua had brought him home, a shaggy, mangy stray? Two years?

(Two years—)

Psyche had been dead for two years. Hototo had been dead for two years. His eyes stared stubbornly at the flaming horizon, a glassy darkness cradling the fragile depths; two years?

It scared him. It always had. The passage of time, lives and blood slipping between your fingers even as you tried so bad to hold on—but you never could. Things would always change, and there he stood, two years later, frosted hooves digging into the limestone as he was—painfully—reminded of times gone by. Two years.. and what had he done? He had promised vengeance over Psyche's body, had found solace and forgiveness in the presence of Kahlua, had.. had been saddled with a stubborn, recalcitrant, ugly man beside him, had fought foreign gods, and lost his daughter. Given up his crown.

Kahlua had disappeared. He hadn't seen Elding in forever. Tembovu had stabbed him, although he had asked for it. Where was Naerys? How was Glacia doing?

What was he doing? With himself, with his life? Wasting away? His existence felt pointless. Meaningless. He did nothing; he just .. existed, and suddenly, it wasn't enough, and just like the time Erthë had found him at the Edge his weight shifted backwards, hindquarters tensing as they prepared to launch him into oblivion—

(Anything but this.)

If he "died" he couldn't start over, anyway. He was too well-known. So even jumping was pointless.

Soft, black feathers brushed against his shoulder; he jumped, not forward, but sideways, head thrown high and eyes wide. Gods, he had forgotten about her somehow—well, not exactly forgotten, but in the face of all that darkness welling up from the bottom of his soul she had become .. not enough. Insignificant. Unable to stem the flow and pull him back to himself.

And he hated himself for it. Just like he hated himself for never having been that curious about who she was.

(But with all the names already carved into his sternum, and all the lives he already neglected, could he justify adding another?)

"Evidence of my madness is hardly lacking," he said, weakly, but there was no way to save face. He had zoned out, he had spooked, and she had witnessed it all. He forced his eyes shut. There was no hiding anything anymore. Once, he had contained everything within his skin, within his bones, and magic had lain like a shield around his mind—but what was even the point of having a magical barrier around his head, when he couldn't even control his emotions anymore?

And just like that, like a leaf thrown about in a rushing, bubbling brook, he felt the first flickering anger. Anger, at the world. Anger, at himself, and Sarazheha's gentle advice (honesty, brother) became a hard, jagged thing.

"I guess what I wanted to ask was, why the ability to take pain onto yourself? Why not just be able to take pain away? Or outright heal?" And he hated himself for letting it spill out over her, she, who seemed to never want anything but to help him; what had she done to deserve his scrutiny, his digging words? Why couldn't he just shut up and let things be, instead of give voice to well-hidden judgment masked in patient curiosity?

He had never been perfect. He had never been a saint. He had never been an angel.

He had never been anything but a narrow-minded, closed-off, selfish moron.

"What's in it for you?" he ended with, those too-sharp blue eyes sliding onto her as his hindquarters started to bunch again—because it was starting to look like the damned only way to save her from him.

[ @Alysanne - d'aw, you got post #1,300 <3 ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#13

Although she was fairly certain that she had lived here in the Edge longer than Mauja - unaware as she was of his deeper history with this place that stretched further back than the four years she had lived here - she didn't say anything about it. It was entirely likely that he considered the time that he had spent here (the time Alysanne was aware that he had spent here) too long - some did. Archibald had barely been in the Edge for any time at all before waging war on the Falls.

Alysanne had not realized Mauja was spacing out - how could she? She assumed because she had been speaking, he had been listening - typically, in her experience, that was the natural order of conversations. So when he startled away from her touch, she immediately believed it was out of repulsion. Whether it was her touch or just the touch of anyone, it appeared to be unwanted enough to cause a violent reaction. There was a small moment of hurt (rejection, in whatever capacity, never rested well with the black and white mare who loved everyone) but it was quickly overridden by concern and guilt.

She hated that she had forced him to react in such a manner, that she had done anything to make him feel uncomfortable in any way. “I’m sorry!” Aly quickly apologized, making a mental note not to invade his personal space again and even shifting away from him just slightly so it wouldn’t happen accidentally.

Guilt continued to riddle away at her even as the conversation moved on.

His questions about her quest were fair and she didn’t mind answering them truthfully. There was just one problem and she met his gaze as she responded. “I don’t really have an answer for you because I don’t know.” There was a faint wariness in her expression now, half-expecting Mauja to just run from her at her next misstep and trying to guess at what might set him off so she could avoid it. Only she was just getting to know him, all her information was summed up in this one interaction and a few scattered pieces from before.

This had seemed such a simple excursion when it began - find Mauja and make sure his burns were healed, make sure he was okay. And now they were debating the logistics of her quest, which felt incredibly personal but when had she ever shied away from sharing a part of her soul with whoever asked?

Her voice was slow and careful as she tried to riddle out her thoughts to explain the why of her quest when she had not yet figured that out herself. “Taking the pain away or just healing outright… neither of those ideas came to me when I went to the Moon Goddess. I was so sure that the best way to supplement the magic I have as a moon doctor was to transfer the pain.” She was far from being sure now. She had even tried to go back to the Veins, to admit defeat, but the Goddess would not hear it and gave her a second chance. To go back now in failure was… unthinkable. Alysanne had to try, however hard she found the tasks. “If pain is a necessary part of life, who am I to just whisk it away into oblivion? Should it not still exist somewhere? Even if it’s in me. I can carry that burden for anyone that needs me to.”

But of course she couldn’t. Alysanne was both stronger and closer to completely fracturing than she realized.

“There isn’t anything in it for me, I think that’s why I like the idea.” She was not self-aware enough to realize she was infatuated with the idea of being a martyr or that she needed to be needed.

Her sad, summer-green gaze did not shift from him once as she spoke, wanting to see if she could see his reaction to her attempts at an explanation. Would it make any sense to him?

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star


@Mauja <3
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
His arteries were thrumming, fueled by the thunder of his heart as his mind danced some complex dance with elements of smoke and shadow; they wove together only to come apart as rationality clashed with chaos.

For that was what he was: chaos encased in cold, cold ice.

And sometimes, the chaos started to chip away at the glacier surrounding his soul, little hairline cracks and fractures spreading as dark tendrils leaked out—like dragon-heads, snapping together with slavering jaws as the ice sought to drive it back within.

Chaos whispered leap, leap, leap, high on the idea of such a rash act.
Ice roared NO!, followed by the quiet, judgmental that's so stupid, are you that stupid, Mauja? Are -you-, Frozen Light and Frostheart and Ice King and all things cold, that stupid?

Would you let your emotions rule -you-?


But chaos was all these fledgling emotions bundled up in a fragile, newly hatched bird bundle, and when it shrieked, who knew what it wanted? Because he didn't know himself—

And that was why he carried a slightly irregular, black fresh scar at the point of his chest, where love had mingled with pain and both been overridden by loyalty until he had been too afraid, in too much pain, to allow himself to keep hiding behind the guise of confusion.

Chaos made his eyes wilder than they should've been; widened, a faint rim of white cradling the darker rim of his iris. Chaos made him say things that were unkind in their intent, even as it had him begging to leap from the cliff's edge; ice kept him where he was, but couldn't still his tongue, not entirely. His dark nostrils widened, dragging in lungful after lungful of warm late spring air, trying to keep it down long enough to soothe his shrieking nerves. He couldn't put his hoof on what it was, not really, though it was as uncomfortable as a snake beneath his own skin—this blindness towards the self. Because wasn't that the first thing he had thought? Martyr, helper, fool—

If she was a fool, she was not a fool for loving, but for not opening her eyes, and her mind, wide enough to see herself.

He couldn't even soothe her right now, couldn't explain that it wasn't her fault, that it was okay, that it was just the memories bubbling up like black tar and his skin feeling like fiery ants tapdanced on him—

All he could do, he guessed, was stand there, and listen. Not jump off the edge, because wouldn't that give her about an additional fifty wrong conclusions? Not to mention she'd probably not trust him when he said he'd be fine, and jump in after him anyway, and she couldn't fly, and—ugh. So the least he could do was not risk her life in the process of flirting with his own savage bent for adrenaline.

Black-rimmed ears were focused in her direction, his gaze, somehow too intense, resting on hers. Green. Usually warm green, always expressive, for throughout the course of this meeting he had realized that she showed more of her feelings in them than she did with the rest of her face (—her mouth), and now, they were sad. His gut tightened in guilt. It was his fault, wasn't it? For pressing, and as her feeble attempts at explaining to him what she couldn't even explain to herself registered in his mind he realized that while he should shut up and let her live her life as she pleased, he knew that he wouldn't be able to shake this off. It'd haunt him, it'd take up his time, his mind would twist and turn until he'd either run himself ragged on it, or he caved in and found her again and yelled 'why?!' at her again. Besides, he knew what it was like to be blind to yourself—and to remain blind. To know that there was something there, in the back of your mind, niggling at you and asking you to open your eyes but at the same time you kept telling yourself they weren't closed, that you saw clearly, that what you did was right.

"But there is something for you in it," he said, more quietly than he thought he was capable of; his haunches were still tensed up and the wildness hadn't quite gone out of him, but his pulse had quieted. "And you just said it yourself. 'I can carry that burden for anyone that needs me to.'"

But what if you're wrong? his mind kept screeching at him, telling him that it was none of his fucking business, he didn't even know Alysanne, did he? So who was he to stand here and pretend he was smart and insightful and had a single damn clue to what she wanted and needed, whether she knew it or not?

(It was just his backwards way of showing care.)

"It will let you suffer in someone else's stead," he went on, sadly, the turmoil of his dark core settling again as his eyes relaxed. He fell silent, then, before he turned his head, and his gaze returned to the darkening waves of the sea. He was afraid the sympathy he felt would come out as pity (it was dangerously close to it), and that it would show in his face.

[ @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#15

Dark ears flicked backwards, almost flattening at his words as if that would stop her from hearing them - hearing the truth of them. Or what she thought was the truth of them - that they were pointing out a serious flaw in her personality. She would suffer for them, for anyone, over and over if it meant they wouldn't.

But with this magic, that meant that they would have to be in pain first.

Alysanne shut her eyes, turning her head away from Mauja and his intense gaze. She angled it toward the ocean and sky so that he wouldn’t see the play of emotions twisting across their way through her mind. “But that… that means I’m crazy, doesn’t it? It’s like I’m wishing pain on others so that I’ll have a purpose…” Maybe Mauja wasn’t the only one who was mad here, standing on the cliff. She had suspected her mind had been slipping for a while now... But was she a sadist or a masochist? She never wanted anyone else to be in pain but she wanted to be able to help when it did happen.

That was all she ever wanted to do.

When she spoke again, her voice was the ghost of a whisper. “I just want to help.” One last-ditch effort to try to defend her choices, to try to explain herself to him as though talking more would somehow make everything make sense. Of course it didn’t, though. This entire conversation was making her feel worse because if she couldn’t even explain a simple why to someone then maybe she shouldn’t be on this quest at all. Maybe she had made a terrible choice.

Her eyes remained closed, stubbornly fighting away the tears that wanted to betray her. A meltdown in the company of someone else was out of the question. Although Alysanne hadn’t moved she felt her heart picking up the pace and then she was suddenly feeling restless. The need to run, to jump was rising with her pulse. She wouldn’t get hurt - she could glide even if she couldn’t fly. Or the act of plummeting might trigger the memories of the few flying lessons she had taken.

The thoughts raging through her mind weren’t suicidal - leaping right now would just be the quickest way to get away, to stop bothering Mauja with her thoughts and quest. To leave him in peace.

Only then her eyes flashed open and she regarded the sea below. “I’m sorry, I just…” She pleaded with him, taking a slow, shaky step back away from the cliff - still unsure about whether she would run or leap. Her eyes looked resolutely at the ocean as she moved back. “I came to see if you were okay and I’ve only succeeded in burdening you with my presence. I didn’t mean to, that was selfish of me.” Right from the start she had vomited words and insecurities at him without any prompt or reason. She had used stoic spotted stallion selfishly as a sounding board. She barely spoke about such things to her sister never mind someone who she had only a few tentative threads of connection to.

It didn’t matter that he had asked questions and encouraged some sort of answers. She should have been more careful. It was natural for her to share her soul freely but until recently, that had never been a problem. Alysanne had been a creature of light and happiness - not one who soured others.

She couldn’t shake the memory of him flinching away from her touch.  

*ALYSANNE
lying on the edge of a star
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries
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
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Truth: sledgehammer, or stiletto?

He couldn't help but feel like a small, fine knife, sliding in between ribs and going, mercilessly, straight for the heart—cold, surgical precision. If he erred on his way, it was because her heart beat, and her body shuddered with it, that foolish, mortal life.

That precious, sacred thing; Mauja's pale eyes blinked, slowly. At some point, truth had become everything to him. Truth, and clarity; honesty. To dispel every smoke curtain in the world, to tear every blindfold from the heads of others, and of himself. To open eyes, and keep them open. To batter himself against the established order until hypocrisy, corruption, and evil had been vanquished.

And in that, there was bitterness—when you took everything else away, life itself became meaningless, barren, so tightly controlled by a prohibition to do others harm that nothing could be done because the ripples always spread so far and something would get rocked by it.

It was a worthless, sterile existence, and yet it was the path his bloodied hooves stood upon as he failed himself and her and kept poking, pressing, prodding, arrogant and self-righteous in his perception that he was right.

That he knew the truth. That he saw to the core of someone he didn't know. That he heard all the flaws of her logic as she shied from the obvious, painful truth: that we aren't as great as we think. And that included him, too, perched on the white-bleeding limestone cliff and knowing that truth only existed because we believed in it.

(And, that he had no right to be doing this to her.)

And still, the hesitant confession spilling from dark lips was a touch away from the whole of it, falling just shy of the heart of the matter; eyes half-open, but going the right away, and as he held up his warped mirror for her to see herself his heart broke. For her. Because she had to endure this—endure him, and the poison-coated stiletto he was sinking into her flesh.

“I just want to help.”

Why had she even come tonight? She had been looking for him—

And look at them now, listen to her now, and his eyes closed, heart stuttering out the truth but it didn't make it past his lips. Alysanne, always so bright, so exuberant, broken; he wanted to blame himself. For surely, this was his fault? There had been no need to call this to her attention.. unless she, like he, wanted to live an honest life with her eyes truly open.

He didn't know. Couldn't know. “I’m sorry, I just…” I'm the one who should be saying sorry, he thought, opening his eyes to look at her again. She took a step back. She looked like she wanted to run.

From him? From herself? From what he was forcing her to listen to, to think about? "Alysanne..." He said her name, gently, a mere breath; a plea, asking her to stay, if but for a moment longer. His pulse had gone up again, but this time, there was no anger in it. "You want to be loved." And his sad, blue eyes focused upon her, shimmering with soft, soft light. "Needed," he added after a breath's pause, still feeling sad—for her, for having to endure this, for thinking that he didn't want her around, for.. for.. well, it wasn't like he had done a good job of convincing her otherwise..?

"And there is nothing wrong with that," he concluded, wondering if he wasn't quite done tormenting her yet; if she ran...

He would not give chase. Not now.

[ @Alysanne ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here


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