Of Misery & Happiness || [soteh]

[sibber-chow]

Regret had become a popular topic upon the fae’s mind these days. Having left her homelands and departing from stature as ruler, Char had wandered the island in a hopeless venture to find the stallion that never ceased to plague her mind or body. Constantly his name, Jack, circled through every wire of her brain despite how much better it might have been that she had forgotten him. And, perhaps it truly would have been best to have remained in the safety of her home, settled down with her longtime friend, Zandarkand and met the expectations her mother had set out for her. But, Char realized she was not the child that Fiana could hope for, and she had come to peace with that for a while. Jack had given her the child, now ready to burst from within her, which allowed the mare such a sense of pride that she was on the right path; that she could be as just a leader as Fiana had been. Such mindset had long since withered just as the wishes that Jack had instilled within Char to stay away from him had. She loved the brute, short-lived as their acquaintance was… there was no denying that.

And such were the matters that brought her here to the middle of Cascata Piu Forrest instead of the warmth, protection and shelter of her homelands. The foal had endured the winter’s grasp inside her small frame and now wished to break from its captivity despite the frost that still lingered upon branches. There was no time to make the journey back home, and Char was not certain she could go back at this point even.

As slender pillars dropped an equally dainty frame, bulging only slightly despite the bundle of life within, to the ground, Char tried to preoccupy her mind with other things. However, it seemed as if there was no escape for a troubled mind. There was only her misery and pain to distress the young fae’s thoughts as breaths quickened and labor ensued. And, with misery came company of the most lethal nature. Orbs of translucent white glowed just beyond the barrier of willow branches. The entity fed and lavished among the sorrow – it longed to end it all. Each push of pain, each burdened thought, brought the soul nearer and nearer.

The Mercy Killer was as certain as ever that his services were needed as he took each pace towards the birthing mare. Her pain was more than that of child birth, it emanated from her core. She suffered and he could fix that qualm. He was so near to ending her pain and she need not even sense it coming, no fear, never should they fear… he would save those burdened souls. Death was the truest release from misery; they would all come to realize that as he had. He had already helped so many troubled souls. One more… one more… so many more… and then…

Something snapped, orbs widened, deep inhalation. What was this? A multicolored bundle of flesh being nudged gingerly by the maw of the labored miserable. Then he was Samael, and he stood watching a young mare and her foal’s first moments together, and he was delighted and embarrassed. Slowly, the stallion turned away, hoping he had not been seen or startled the mare and foal. Such a peaceful, happy thing; it seemed such a rarity to find for him. It was certainly a moment to cherish, even if the happiness was not his own.

Indeed, Char was happy. This little filly was the silver lining to all her suffering. Gentle whinnies escaped her as she continued to groom and massage the young filly into breath… into life. “You are my Brightside,” she whispered, and so the foal was just that.

word count|| 632
characters|| Char & Samael

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,349,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#000000] Labors were so much more than the obstacles they appeared to be at a first glance, a long fight of ones demons that was spread through the seasons, etched in hide and bone. Call Me Jack could indeed feel the scars upon his hide, invisible as they were to the naked eye. His entire being, though physically unscathed, shivered with the knowing and anticipation of his own thoughts as well as former actions. The present lorded over him, as was its custom, but he was far from easy with its companion, the past. Those he had saved were sometimes rightful in their ways, returning to the path he so tempted them upon. Yet there was the one he stood watch over with the implications of love, the knowing of her truth enough in itself to send daggers straight past his ribs and into his heart. The heart he had no right to, no more than he had right to the mare's heart whom he had so recklessly gambled with. The young stallion had wisdom in his blood, the woven fabrics of time in his veins, and knowing seemed to be his forte, as his father before him. Was he becoming his father then, despite the attention and care he so tirelessly shed down upon the unsuspecting mare? Oh, Char. It was in fact he could make her understand, willing her to him and back into the love he so thirsted. Even without he pressuring, there she was, wandering the isles with so blatant disregard for her own safety, his shadow following so closely. He had always to make sure she was safe. Call Me Jack could not torment his mind with the thought of being without her, his purpose. Saving her again and again, even if it meant he had to give himself to Greymarch. Had to throw his life away. Meaningless. It was meaningless in comparison. Golden orbs had seen for themselves the Rocas of her homeland, had tangled with the torment of her mind, and left it be. The pain of the past was always fresh on her soul, feeling into his own skin with each prick of fresh feeling. Such a wide spectrum of pain, such things he could erase, but could not all at the same time. already his father wished to recall his existence, punish him for his continued weakness. His falseness, his errors. The swell of Char's stomach was no mistake to him. Call Me Jack would die for her. Would die for his offspring. If it meant saving them one last time, he would do so without the hesitation that marked those who valued their life above others. Seasons changed and blurred, tears came and went, and Jack only had eyes for the fea he had fallen in love with, the only equine who could own his heart, despite how faux a performance it had once been. Painlessness and ease, comfort and truth. Evaporating from one mind to the other with the rush of love that was felt. Gone. Yet she waited for him still, sought him, never knowing. Never understanding he was watching her. He was looking after her. Never was she in danger. Just in the mind he had helped break, imprinted upon and broke. Why not return? Why not mend? His hopes dashed and shattered upon the rocks of her homeland, splintered which each thought he could hear in his own. Her dreams and nightmares the only reality he saw. Char had become the only logic, even if he was endlessly pained by it. It was his burden to bear. Their foal and her were his reason. Why else would he have the strength to endure his father's lessons? The Lord of Wisdom was well versed in teaching lessons, especially when they needed to be of the painful verity. He could bend wind to his will as easily as minds, send images to the head of past and present, inflict pain as the Reapers had learned, and he knew so much. More than an equine had the right to know. Everything was knowledge, and everything could be used against one. Each step Jack took, each break that was broken into the air, Greymarch would know. For every sin that was voiced the stallion knew a thousand more, and Call Me Jack was at his mercy. Char. Oh, love. How many times had his mind been bent and tampered, beaten..if he could count all those ways. He would suffer such a million times, though his body would probably give in. The heart can continue on while the framework splinters and snaps. The mudblood would bear the scars as trophies, and each time on his return hom he would gain many more. Learn, his father told him. Learn from these mistakes or die from them. The death of Jack would not be dignified, yet the stag hardly could care. Worth could be measured in deeds. Perspective was something that wisdom lacked, as well as the truth of love. Call Me Jack would throw everything away to feel the love from Char once more. The love that he had first whispered into her mind, the feeling that had overtaken all else and driven them both out of sense. The sole emotion that resided within. The season was ripe with it, and Jack knew. He knew. The sweet bitterness of familiarity chewed at the borders of his weathered mind, weaving at the seams in hopes to get inside. The pressure was that of Char's, an elixir Jack wished so heartily to drink down, tainted as it was with misery. Regret was her blackness, worn like a shroud upon her beauty. Mourning it would seem for the disappearance and loss that the mare had suffered for so long without reward. A million moments it had been, yet the fight to go to her was never easier than the first nor the second. Gritting his teeth and biting his tongue against her breath, her thoughts, her mere presence. Toxin, the sweetened poison of his demise. He longed to whisper to her. Time nudged his mind into knowing. She was to have their foal in this place. The pain spiked. His mind flinched. Her physical pain was much stronger than the feeling of his own. Her glorious hide beaded with sweet, her breathing labored with his heart. Her heart. Inside of his, the rhythm together in time. Time. Call Me Jack was there with Char, watching her struggle with all that was life, wishing to take away all that ailed her. All that inflicted her, mind reaching and reeling, twisting under the knowing of consequence. Then his focus snapped around like on a tether. A sharp inhale revealed the knowing. Stallion. Elemental. Familiar blood. Blood. A dark being shimmering like a demon, mind choking. Jack gagged on the thoughts, mind whipping out to capture the location, a growl stuck in his throat. Pressure building, pain swimming behind his bright eyes. Protecting. The world slapped across his mind like a vivid flash of white, knocking his senses dead with their brilliance. The stallion's head moved back to the fea, sparked eyes widening at what he saw. His daughter, multicolor flesh wet. Char. Happiness washed over him, mind's reach regained. The other forgotten. Brightside. The mixed blooded stallion stepped through the trees, the force of his mind shrouding them both, not masking anything any longer. Love. His entire being was numb with the thoughts, with the emotions, and his own movements. Jack did not try to stop himself from doing exactly as he knew was right. Trust. Love. Compassion. Truth. Understanding. His mask falling away, his shroud to the world lowering. Emotion rising like tides and expanding through the world. Everything else was inconsequential. Irrelevant. His foal's eyes shimmering. Char's voice echoing. He was not afraid. He came to a stop in the sunlight, the spring muffled around him to a dull throb in his chest. His heart. Reaching with one word. 'Char.'

[/color]

Muse: A million different things. Higher than ever before.
OOC: 1,329 words for my 400th post. I would never have it with anyone but my sibby. And Jack and Char together.
Music: ...

[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#24211a] Exhaustion clung to her soul like the sweat that had beaded upon her pelt during labor. Eyelids fluttered over deep blue orbs as she lipped and licked at the wet foal. The small life at her side had begun to budge and gasp its first tastes of the fresh spring air. A fog whirled from the little one’s nostrils with each gasping exhalation, and fear wrought the young mare’s heart in fear that the late frost that clung around them might prove dangerous for the child. There was a need to escape from the shadowy coldness beneath the trees for the foal’s sake although Char was still heated and perspiring freely. Not her own need for the refreshing undergrowth and frost nor the tire that fed through her veins could deter action. Slowly, with great difficulty, the mare’s small frame began to lift, only to falter and stumble back to ground. A snort mixed with her exhaust and displeasure slipped into the air just as footfalls could be heard in a fearfully close proximity. Wide-eyed and frantic, the mare staggered up with the same faulty nature as her newborn foal would experience on its first attempts to stand upon such frail pillars. Tire, pain and discomfort disallowed the mare from any chance at grace, and yet in her clumsy falter and sweat slathered state, Char was as pretty as she had ever been with mane and tail curling with a mad frenzy of lush lock, bright blue orbs glistening with the alarm and dainty frame nearly restored from birthing. The word, her name, it hit her before sight could even register the approaching form. Body relaxed its protective stance before young Brightside and ears twitched with intrigue and delight. A smile, then confusion, then disbelief but never anger. Jack. Jack. Jack. “Jack? Jack!” Before she could contemplate the act or register the repercussions, a stinging pain through her freshly strained bodice and limps, Char sprang forward with a childlike enthusiasm. Her lips tested themselves upon his cheek, nibbling gingerly to see if flesh was truly before her. Nostrils were hesitant, then flaring, a deep inhalation. His flesh, his scent, his sight, his words. This hallucination could not be that. It was him, wasn’t it? “Jack… I’ve been looking for you,” she whispered as her hooves brought her back a few paces to admire what was the grandest hallucination she’d ever conjured. He had to be real. If he wasn’t, she was okay with the ignorance. She could not bear letting go of him fake or genuine… “Where have you- it doesn’t matter, because you are here now! Oh, oh!” With returning enthusiasm, the mare’s crown tossed gently back towards the huddled form beyond her. “Jack, meet your daughter, Brightside.” Suddenly embarrassed and uncertain, she glanced to Jack, unsure how he would take the news of his daughter. She had never known how much he truly knew nor was it likely she could grasp the thought of such knowledge. Shaking away the uncertainties, her velvety maw dropped to nudge the young, multicolored sprite. “Brightside,” she whispered, “it is time to greet the world little one.” OOC|| word count: 524 notes: i am still getting back into the hang of her character. your post was so delightful that i can only hope this has done at least a fraction of the justice it deserves. <3 currently listening to: all you need is love - the beatles

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,349,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#000000] In comparison, all the pain endured through the seasons was nothing but superficial excess, trifles not to be bothered with and thus so easily pushed aside. Mirages cast aside, misery dissolving with the fondness of breath, his calling so sweeting falling from the golden chambers of her throat. Drinking it in, to the stallion it was sweeter than cyanide, a far cry from the throbbing aching that usually afflicted him. Char's voice a drug he could take forever, downing it again and again without thought, without consequence. With only a touch Jack's entire struggle was worth forgetting, easily tossed aside as her muzzle pressed itself to his cheek, as the stallion drank in her intoxicating scent guiltlessly, mind swimming in her own. The last ebbs of pain that hunched there he vanished with a whispered word, allowing his heart to teem with the knowing of love, overflow into her own mind as the moment shared was savoured, devoured into his conscious as though he were walking in dream. Char thought it was a grand hallucination as well, though the hides that pressed were warm with heat, eyes sparking together in compassion. Without compare, her beauty was the antidote he need not strive to win. There she was in all her splender, safe in his sight and thus in his mind. Nothing was whispered between them but Jack's love, his emotion. Char's mind embraced as easily as though it were the past, on the day were it all began, and at this moment it was more than a fond memory. It was the reality of the moment, the air in which he breathed, more than fabrication as he nuzzled into her velveteen hide, mouth breaking into grin. Smiling was such a simple act, yet it expressed so perfectly as he felt. Char. A name that was sweeter than all the nectar of the gods. Brightside. Again the name was given grace, this time on the lips of his love. His golden orbs strayed to the foal, the smile only widening with the claiming of his own. With mind reaching, the foal's ears pricked in response, Jack hushing and thinking so sweetly toward his offspring. The surroundings seemed to glow with the solidness of his daughter, the small filly so nestled in the depths of the trees. The small eyes brightly searching, shyly peering. Blue eyes of ocean surf, putting the sky to shame. Her pelt was a patched as the past and the future to be, reflecting the present in its wholeness. Again he smiled and this time he moved forth, pressing his muzzle to her withers. Encouraging her to stand, to join them, to live. Mind reeling and pressing, nudging and tugging. Stand, little one. Stand. Jack whispered strength to her legs, soundness to her mind, balance to her quivering young form. To his love he whispered the continuous resounding of emotion without thought and without labor as such. Nothing seemed to be of any tire, his energy boundless and patience. Ears flicked forward and head lowered as though to bow, Brightside watched without fright her father before her as well as her mother. The Elemental brushed his muzzle to her skin, nudging both with body and mind once more. The foal once more shook to her little legs, this time not toppling. Standing. The mudblood stallion grinned with pride down at her form, showering her thoughts with praise. Still encouraging as she quivered on stilts, as unsure as any newborn. 'Brightside.' The name fell from his tongue without hesitation, peppering the air with its foreign tang. A sensation that made his smile, as it felt fitting to the form standing before him, moving toward her mother. Call Me Jack felt more than pride, already loving the filly as much as her mother, the product of his saving. The only real truth of his life. His mind skipped the beat as the pressure rose and fell with time. His eyes skimmed to Char's, warming into the blue of them, once more drinking her in. If anything were half as lovely it would be considered and taken as a crime. The flood of his emotions raining like shooting stars between them. She recalled all that was him without help. Char loved him where he had never known such trueness. Emotions could be fabricated, replicated, but it had a ring that he could not provide. Was it the truth that really had no limits? Her truth that sang through his blood, her truth that caught him in snare and pulled him so close? Truth, was it, more than word and way? Action and reaction, the leading of path and dream? Staring into those crystalline eyes, Jack could believe she held all inside her own mind. The beginning and the end right in her orbs, beating with the time of her heart. Singing in his ears. He wanted to make her understand, but instead hoped she did. He pressed his head to her chest, eyes closing in the embrace. Words could be given and thrown about, but his thoughts seemed so much more powerful, able to be connected and share without falsehood or fallacy. Jack could no longer hide from Char, nor lie to her again. The bonds had been cemented, grafted into his heart. 'I love you. I love you more than this earth and the sea beyond. The heavens cannot compare to the light I see in your eyes, all the warmth of summer to the fires I feel in your heart. With all the knowledge in the world no one can understand the truth that stems from your mind. In all the lands, through all the many isles, there is nothing half as lovely as you, nothing that can hold a spark. Your words are the only spring rains I will ever need, the only purging from sin I will ever accept. The angels shall ever be envious of your voice as they are of your mere existence, for they must feel as though they have been cheated. Heavens may seek to claim you, lords may seek to take you, but I will ever be here by your side until the moment you wish me away. I will live for you just as I will gladly die for you. Whatever you wish and I shall oblige. Name anything and I will do all I can. I love you with all my heart and ask you to be with me until the end of our days, til the last of our breaths, and until my heart is forcefully pried from its place beside yours. I love you, Char. I love you more than anything else.'

[/color]

Muse: Wonderfully wonderful.
OOC: Love. <3
Music: ...

[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#24211a] Gaze found itself in utter fascination as she observed the gentleness in which Jack treated their offspring and further the acceptance of the fact that it was their child. There almost seemed to be a gladness upon his being. And, she too was glad. The portrait of the family could have been pulled from a book, as mother and father urged the spindly legged offspring to its feet. After two tries, Brightside had made it, and praise was offered all around; Jack assured and Char whinnied with delight at her daughter’s accomplishment. And, such pleasure was as genuine as any emotions that escape the tri-toned young mare. With a gentle nuzzle to her daughter, she ushered her to try and walk, eyes remaining alert upon the child’s movements even as Jack spoke. Such tender words he spoke, and tears could not be stopped from welling in those deep blue orbs. Before she could think, not that such was entirely abnormal, words slipped from her mouth in response and in delight. “Jack, I was so afraid when we left each other. And, it wasn’t fear for my safety, not that at all. It was a fear that I would never see you again. Something in me drove me on, drove me away, but I didn’t want that. Never. Jack, I left my herd, and I was so afraid still that I would never find you. I couldn’t have imagined life without you. Always, in the back of my mind, battling the fear, I told myself we would see each other again, and that when that time game, I would never let you go.” Her neck was arched above his own, lingering in the embrace with each passing word. Suddenly, without thought, her crown lifted, ears alert, and a familiar spark ignited in her orbs as a child-like enthusiasm delighted her face. “And, here you are, and I won’t! And, it is so good that you want me, because I don’t think I could have left you alone after seeing you again. I absolutely couldn’t.” Her lyrics were broken towards the end, befuddled with discomfiture as the words simply tumbled from her lips. She could not stop them, and yet, she was happy. His love penetrated her very essence in a way that she could not explain nor comprehend, but it was okay. All was okay. Eyes averted completely upon Brightside once more, and Char allowed a lyrical nicker to pass from her maw. “Perhaps we should move into the sun? The frost and the shade have kept this forest rather chill.” A worried gaze traveled back upon her child, a first time mother’s overprotectiveness in heart. OOC|| word count: 445 notes: <3 <3 currently listening to: medicate - AFI

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,349,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#000000] Throughout the extended trial that made up his broken childhood, the lessons led to the same inevitable conclusion, one that was neither up for debate nor discussion. Knowledge was the only true solace of the mind, the obtaining of such never reaching conclusion, thus making it the purpose of ones existence. In knowing something, any obstacle that was placed in front of a being could be overcome with thought, then action, to be rewarded then with the possession of extended topics, new things to populate the mind. The sole fruit of any endeavour was the bending of mind, from one to the other. There was no room in this simple equation for the tally for emotion, of something other than the essential needs. Neither was time, another piece of his being, to be squandered upon practices that would then bear not a fruit. Wisdom was the highest of any honor. Whenever Call Me Jack would try to discuss emotion, the need of empathy, he would be silenced in one means or the other, depending on the mood of his father. Though Lord Greymarch was not of violent nature, he was not a patient stag, so lessons, as in the manner of time, were only to be learned once. Quickly and effectively so the same error in logical judgement would not occur twice. Never had the mudblood met another of the wisdom breed, none of the other Chikoa. Piazza Di Saggezza was always unpopulated, his father standing on usual perch toying with the Elements, or as it was said, exploring and learning. Watching the isles as they shifted before him. It made him wonder if all of the wise breed were so sure in their own ways. Another equine, of non-Elemental blood had once told him that the only true wisdom was in knowing that you know nothing. If that were true, Jack was quite the wise stallion, his father a weak link. There in lay the humor of the expression. For all the agony he had endured, it was said it was in vain. A fruitless event, going still back to his father's logic. If a path is unjust enough to end in not knowing, what was the point in the action? For every consequence may be a lesson, but a false deed is still false. Perspective can only lend itself so far. Here the mixed stag was, mind expanded over those whom he cared about to the point of disowning the life he could no longer possess, drinking so willingly the words of his love. Sentiment to fall like rainbow droplets from her eyes, reflecting the scenery as they tumbled. Not in sadness, but in the simple capture of joy. The light hue of his pelting shivered slightly with the weakness of himself, the strength in his heart compared to the frailty of fear. A shadow he banished quickly, the dishonourable stallion who was no longer heir to the lands to which he had once owned alliance. Threw it all away as he could have allowed a sob from his through. Composed, and overjoy were all he felt, drunkened by her own emotion to the point of a clouded mind. Soaring upon the connection between the two, mindful of his conscious, unmindful of all else. Was he letting go, or allowing himself the happiness of which he was so starved? Everything was okay. Pulled from her own mind to his, her lyrics so sweetened. Could such a wonderful poison truly be bad for you? Dance with the devil, Call Me Jack was so very well past the point of no return. Love meant so much. To have someone care when none had ever. When your own father tortured you over something as small as a word. Strength. Jack gathered his composure and shook the clouds from his head, snapping each frame into place when his eyes became locked once more upon their dear foal. Brightside was shivering, hide still damp, and the stag reached to her, spoke to her mind to ease the quaking, shaking his warmth with her, moving his energy freely between. Shimmering orbs of water watched in captivation as his attention became focus, drawing and closing like a string for one to play. 'I believe it for the best, love.' Jack's ears did prick slightly at the protectiveness that washed between the two, mind never missing a beat when the drum was out of his hands. Nostrils flared as his mind wandered, recalling the layout of the forest as well as the time of day. Time in blood, he knew exactly, tracing the sun with its movements. Knowing. His voice shimmering into his foal's mind, he tempted her to her mother's side as he turned his natures to the task at hand. The sunlight was not in his direct forte, never meeting a controller of day, a Dia. Hearing he knew, yes, but meeting was the only way he could take such powers and bend the light in the way that was needed. Moving without sound through the trees, nostrils quivering for scents, his mind reached through the concealed shade, searching for any other beings. Any beings of threat, more so. Though he found none, he kept his mind in constant motion, calling to souls from mind to mind, reading intention. Each pace was placed deliberately, slow and steady as he reached to make sure Brightside was keeping pace. Every so often he would nicker in low to both Char the foal to make sure, though unneeded, that they were both in good way. It was easy to let it slip by that other equines needed the communication that mouth lended in order to understand each other. It made a sad smile travel to his maw with the thought of it all. If the blood of the Elementals had nought flowed through his veins, would the outcome of that so fabled a meeting be the same? Was the implication he tempted into her mind the foundation for all that was, or merely the smallest of things? Could he have expected the same out come, the same happiness, from something as simple as speaking, as understanding through speech. Yes, Jack had the ability of speech and used it often enough...but not as his basis. The world was different to him than others, his ability to sense intentions, presences, even the most common of his knowing. Char. She did not understand the root of it all, yet was perfectly happy with the result. His manipulation, his intrusion into her mind so long ago, his bending to help, his bowing. Not a mistake, Brightside the product of his love. Love that was not false, even then he knew such things. It was one thing to know and to understand. How much did Char know? How much did Char understand? About Greymarch, nothing. About his breeding, nothing. So much speaking he wished to have her hear. So much. Were to begin? His birth, his father? His powers? The power of the Elementals as though a treacherous thing into his body. Time, Wisdom. What did it mean? What role did it play in his love? How much would he have to right before he could live happily? He was Call Me Jack, Heir of the Land of Piazza Di Saggezza, son of Lord Greymarch, Wisdom Lord. Meaningless. So meaningless... Herding very gently the mare and foal into a patch of sunlight, though minimalistic as it was, he smiled in encouragement to his mate. Brightside was hungering, Jack could feel it in his own stomach. Quietly, he whispered mindfully the implication to Char. Calm. Safe. I shall stand watch. Another small smile. He allowed his eyes to close, his mind to blank itself, and open. The borders fell away, the defences, leaving him exposed to the pressure of the world. Bare. A presence slipped easily into his mind, overbearing and omnipotent as it was. A lesson should only be taught once. Yes, father. I know this. You are without knowing. One must accept to know. Knowing and understanding, dear father, are two separate things. Pain shot through his head, forcing him to shield it from the surroundings, forcing him to keep from broadcasting the agony. His teeth grit together. I shall not partake in foolish games. Return to Saggezza. I will not leave her fath- Another split of pain crushed into his skull, twisting into it as though a knife. You will listen. You will obey. No. You know how this shall end. The future is ever shifting, ever changing, you know this. The future is with itself. Return to Saggezza, Wyandanch. Jack choked on his growl. That name. That damned name! We are with knowing. Return. Greymarch was gone, leaving him hollow, leaving his mind naked. His barriers snapped into place on command, the shield on his mind fraying so slightly with the rage he felt. Char.... He called to her. 'I need to tell you about my father.' Wyandanch.....

[/color]

Muse: Oustanding.
OOC: 1,494 words!
Music: ...

[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#24211a] Ever unaware of what raced through Jack's mind, the mare's focus remained upon her pride, their pride, a young child spawned upon chance encounter. It was a night, a time, constantly upon her mind up until now. it was now that that time did not matter. No, it was not that she did not cherish that day, their meeting, the result that stood on trembling pillars at her side. Instead, it was the joy, the contentment of the now that made it stray from her mind. She needed not to pull the pleasure from that encounter, that moment of being for there was delight in this time. Delight for her, delight for him, for them and their child. Ignorance shrouded her to the belief that things could so easily go awry. Such was her way, there was an eye in Char to see the good and when things were bad, to have faith and hope in her possession. Voice. Feeling. Both encountered her in response to her suggestion. It was always such an easiness in Jack's presence. That she had remembered from then, that she experienced now. Her body and mind aligned with one another in the moment, the foal and Jack too. Towards the sunlight, the warmth, and away from the shadows, the cold and the frost, they traveled. The sun felt luxurious upon her pelt. The gleam of sweat that had once been welcomed upon her labored form had begun to cause discomfort among the frost. More-so, the mare was aware that her still wet filly would find the sensation of sunlight new, peculiar, but all very welcomed. Deep gaze studied intently as the little filly wandered into the light upon newborn legs. Each step was an accomplishment and a matter of pride. A light whinny fell upon the young one to reassure that very fact. Pride. Always, there would be pride in Char for her new family. It was something new for her, a concept once lost although always longed for, wanted desperately. Finally, she felt at home, nearly complete. Rocas came to mind, and so did the edge of nervousness. She was aware that she would have to return. Their was an anguish at that thought. She wanted to return, truly - it was her place, her destiny she felt - yet, how difficult would such a road be. Had she hurt others? Their lie the difficulty, the pain, the fear. She never wished to burden the soul of another. She'd always been the very definition of optimism, and it was a terrible thing to strip that from another. Many times recently, her own delight had tried to flee. It was simply terrible... Mind was released from the bog of inner turmoil though, only to be introduced to that which burdened her love. She did not quite realize the depth of Jack's words, his struggles, yet she was well in tune with the fact that something was not quite right. His very essence could not hide it from her own. "Your father?" An eeriness passed across her mind, she shifted uneasily. Shifting unconsciously brought itself in stance to nurse, mind seamlessly shifting into though. The mare glanced upon her filly, still questioning the sudden unease that she felt. Despite the wariness, she encouraged the filly to drink, nudging Brightside's little maw towards her barrel. A light whinny, encouragement. The filly would find its way, yet her mind, her sight kept tab on the foal for mere assurance even as she turned her crown back towards Jack. Riddled with unease and protectiveness for her foal, ears stood back against her skull. Eyes studied her partner with a seriousness not common upon such a face. Her thoughts could do nothing but reel and question. What of his father? Family had been a strained and uncomfortable topic for her; she had always wanted to meet expectations. she had never been able, yet she spoke only good of them, felt love for them. It seemed something different in his voice alone. There was a graveness beyond simply the burdens of a family distanced. "What is it Jack?" OOC|| word count: 733 notes: -- currently listening to: Tokio Hotel

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,349,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#000000] Words. Hadn't it always been words that surfaced between two things, tore them apart without so much as the willingness to shudder? Able to dig into the mind, cut so deeply into even the most fathomless of thoughts, wrench apart memories strand by strand, pouring them one by one into an endless fire. The mudblood had been reared on words alone, empty words filled with unkept promises as well as knowing more would be force down his unyielding throat, or yet, actually, shoved into his ever reluctant mind. It was more than those words those, actually what the words entitled, what they meant, the higher execution of knowledge, the thrice-damned knowing that Greymarch was always speaking of. An endless monologe that swam through his thoughts the moment he allowed his guard to slip in the slightest. As a foal, without protection, without mental blocks, it had been painstaking and unbearable. Unable to think, unable to untangle his own knowledge from his fathers, who practically broadcasted it out onto Saggezza. The knowledge that could poison the souls of lesser equines, the mere truths that had brought other Elemental herds into quarrels about the Wisdom herd, about the blood that pounded through their hearts. How could you give trust to someone who was more likely to dissect your conscious, pick apart your mind, just to see how it works. Just to find out what makes you who you are, your past an open book for them to read. For us to read. Jack had such powers, had such knowledge. He had used it selfishly, squandered it, even though he had thought himself better than that. I will save them all. Was it as childish as it now sounded? He had made such a promise throughout his years, to save the isles. Hearing, thinking, knowing. Call me Jack had wanted to be a Hero. What was he now? Semira, the mother he had never known, never heard about. The stallion had killed her, had he not? Was that the way of the wisdom herd, to take a life, to take your first piece of knowledge before you are even born? Was that the true destiny of Brightside? To kill her mother, simply for the sake of achieving all the scraps of truth that she could from his patched up world? His mind extended to Char for a moment, pressing into her own, trying to calm himself, trying not to broadcast the fear that was choking him, the emotion that was allowed beads of sweat to form alongs his chest. Love... Her voice betrayed what he already had known. Damn him for knowing! The seriousness of her tone enough to seek to give him pause. Yet, with knowing, he kept his silence in order to think a moment longer, producing a shake of his head as he mentally checked their daughter once more. His father would seek to speak with him first, that was for certain, but when Jack would refuse to meet the wishes he outlined? Would he then go after Char? After Brightside? Laughing to himself as he removed all that made them who they were, laughing at Jack for thinking- He checked himself again, nostrils flaring as his yellow orbs found Brightside's nursing form. My child. Born of this forsaken blood. Elemental. Evident even in her coat, its brilliant patterns betraying her as something more than a casual equine, those who came from the seas. He knew of that world. Of course did. The lands beyond their oceans, a land apart from the Isola Dei Dei. Lands were darkness crouched, were forbidden things polluted the substance of the earth. A world away, yet always prowling in his thoughts, breathing down his neck. The knowledge, his father. His emotions once more smoothed themselves into a line, willing Brightside's comfort, and dulling Char's grasp of his emotions. Keeping them in line. 'His name is Greymarch. He is the Lord of Piazza Di Saggezza.' Jack did not blink, did not waver, nor stutter, at these words. His eyes looked at Char, knowing her discomfort, sharing it. Sometimes we have to bear the unbearable. Know the unknowable. 'Our breed is Chikao, the breed of wisdom. We have powers beyond the usual scope of equines. It is our job to know everything. Absolutely everything, Char. We are to be with knowing.' The words were so bitter on his tongue, tone kept low, voice still unwavering as he wished for her to understand. He did not will it. He did not force it. He wished it. 'Greymarch knows about you, Char. He knew everything about you from the moment that I stepped into that grove in Allevare Mettono. So did I.' Jack took a step closer to her, his body quivering with the truth that was pouring from his lips, falling from his tongue without grace. 'All I wanted was to save you.' The stalion swallowed. 'Instead, I fell in love with you.' Tears beaded in his eyes. 'It was the worst possible thing I could have done to you.' The tears fell from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. 'I spoke to your mind. I made you understand that I had to leave. That you were not to question my absence. That you were to be happy without me. But you weren't.' It was the bitterest truth of them all. 'I returned to Saggezza, and face my father's wraith. He does not understand love. He is not capable of emotions. His knowledge has rendered him an unfeeling being, not even equine. A shell.' His voice got quiet. 'He tore apart my mind shred by shred, trying to take you away. He shattered my memories, crippled my mind, and tried to rid me of feeling.' There was a pause. 'He put it back together shard by painful shard. He told me I was to forget, but I couldn't.' His eyes narrowed into hers, seeing nothing but her. 'I followed you. I made sure you were safe. You never noticed. You didn't see me. Feel me, but I was there.' Jack searched her eyes. 'I disobeyed him. I have forsaken my blood, my home. For you.' What would it mean, then, in the end? Once the ending marks were drawn, once the finals lines were made, where would Char stand? Looking into his golden eyes, what exactly could be seen? The monster who had tempted her into love, or the lover that tried to stay? The questions pressed into his mind, willing his eyes to close, his mind to lower itself into thoughtlessness, into the lull of the momentary release. Truth, all of the truth, spanning like a chasm between them. His father, his blood, his life. Yet still there was no knowing here. The eyes could not help him now. He refused to force the knowledge upon her, to open her eyes if they could not be tempted. He would not sing to her thoughts, would not dance with her feelings. That had been done once, and to the avail of a tortured result. The rocky start to the pinning finish. Like capturing something for its beauty, a lie, releasing it when it faded away. The truth burned, twisted, and killed. It was a war fighting with him, and his blow had finally be struck. It had been removed. He had been spent. There was so many words still. The words were wounds on his features, baring their scars to the world beyond the perfection of a glance. Oddities and obscurities buried as though he could forget each little breath, moment, silence. Greymarch in childhood, Char in past, Brightside and present, where would the future last? 'Char.' A word of the wise. 'I want to show you my childhood, but only if you want me to.' His power taboo in the wrong eyes. So untrusting of elementals. Such good reasons. Flames, knowledge, day, night, energy, water, ice, wind, and spirit. It was not as though Call Me Jack trusted Elementals. There was nothing to trust. Power will corrupt itself, not matter the amount. The mudblood couldn't even count himself as the exception. The future called in the back of his mind. There was to be blood, he could sense, his blood. His blood on who's hooves? His blood were except in his veins, in his offspring's veins. Greymarch would not kill her. Greymarch would take her. Saggezza, his fortress. Saggezza, Jack's prison. Home was the name of a gilded cage. Were did that leave him to decide? Greymarch could not be reasoned with. Char could not fathom that. Could she? She was not of his blood, was not his spawn? Was his father the devil, with all his neutrality, with all his power and tyranny, his picking of battles of the mind? Malnourished practice, picking of the weak? Changing the weather? Calling fire to the skies? Devil. Devil's spawn. It mattered not if he was only half of the breed of the devil, he had known not his mother. His father had raised him. His father had taught him. Everything. Every thought he had was a product of that raising, was it not? Such thoughts, such truths, every little breath was because Greymarch had allowed him to live. Blood of blood, kin of kin, why had Jack been allowed to live? Greymarch could have taken another mate, could have had another son. Instead, the lack of perfection, the rebellious son without the wit, here he stood, disobeying. No claim to his lands. No claims to any title. Elemental bastard. Jack was a child no more, but that did not mean Greymarch was not to drawn the card, tempt the fates. Knowledge was a tricky thing, able to give strength and equally enervate those who stood in its way. It was one thing to have fire to burn down a forest, or water to flood it. It was another thing entirely for a horse to be able to possess the knowing to burn down the forest, whip up some wind to fan the flames, make the daylight feed it, then flood it, freeze it, and call it good. More than knowledge, then. an advantage. How can you fight with one who knows all?

[/color]

Muse: Oustanding.
OOC: 1,701 words!
Music: ...

[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#24211a] Her mind never faded from the serious demeanor that clouded it, even as orbs constantly were reassured by the petite form of their brightly hued daughter in content at her side. She could feel lips pressed against her teats, eagerly nourishing the small body, but the feeling, the knowledge, none of it was enough to keep her at comfort. Even with Jack's persuasions not to fret, to dull her senses from what he feared and knew, Char still felt something unexplainable. Something was not right. Family, her mate and child were the only priority, and her happiness, while still there, was shrouded with the uneasiness that plagued. Why did things feel so foreboding? Why did she fear? It wasn't her way to feel such a darkness. There was an understanding that whatever it was... it was something to do with Jack, his history, his story. Each word sunk in to the depths of her, circling about as a turbulent force. She tried hard to understand, to find meaning. Initially, all there was to be found was a sense of bafflement. Frustration began with her misunderstanding and continued with the eventual understanding. There was a realization, a hurt in the knowledge of what their encounter was... in what he was... what his kind to do. The mare stepped back before glancing in alarm to check that she had not startled her daughter in the movement. A quick brush of the maw against a tiny pelt, the softest of nuzzles was allowed to pass reassurance upon the filly. Everything is alright, little one. Everything is... everything is alright. The hurt passed. Eyes were gentle, a certain understanding, and a familiar kindness upon the mare. "For a breed of knowing, you sure know very little." Neck outstretched to tap his maw, the kindest of smiles across her kissers. "To think love is something that could be controlled, be wavered by the will of any force. Love can't be brought into existence without truth to the sentiment, I refuse to believe that." The expression was once again merged into a more solemn presence as words of Greymarch were spoken. Her family had always been distant and feelings and concerns of disappointment had been a major obstacle in her mind... sometimes they still were. Yet, she had never known malice from her mother and father. By the same means, while a creature such as her mother had never been great at the expression of love, their was a flicker of it in there. For one to not know love - it was no existence at all. "Indeed, you're breed knows very little if it cannot even fathom love. What a... sad thing for your father. I... I am glad you know of love. It seems that you've surpassed even the leader of your kind in knowing." There was a whole-hearted believe in her words, and a constant feeling of sadness in the life of Greymarch. Such a misery that she would never want to live. Suddenly, her mind shifted again. Concern. "He-he wouldn't try and hurt Brightside would he? Or you?" There was a sudden panic fluttering through the tri-toned mare as she contemplated this threat to her family. While there was sorrow for the existence of the loveless Greymarch, this was trumped by he want to protect mate and child. "Jack," she spoke his name with affirmation. Decided. "I am a part of you as you are of me; this is a decided fate, something that cannot be any other way. Being a part of you, us being one is not exclusive of the past. It is the whole, the everything, past, present, future." "... show me." OOC|| word count: 649 notes: -- currently listening to: afi

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,349,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#000000] Fear manifested as little more than the yawning gape of shadows, the drawn line of sorrow upon the maw of another. Its reach sunk deep into the earth, clang vilely to the soil over which many tread, venom spreading in the hearts of those who knew the call well enough. The entire Isola Dei Dei fell like prey onto its plate, ringing with the voices of the past as well as the shattered marks of the future. Over every encounter the mixed blooded equine had attested to the presence of this emotion, this feeling that even tainted his own flesh, hiding under the stretching of his pelting. Yet it was not the fact that he could not keep his fear under control that struck him to the bone now. It was the smallest fact that Char stepped back from him in reaction to this merest thing. A blow that struck him hard enough to force the air from his lungs. A step. The smallest of things seemed to do the most damage these days. Bright orbs then glanced to their daughter, before returning to his love with a certain air of calmness. There was no desperation in Jack. Whatever may happen, he deserved it completely. Every grain of malice that was sure to accompany these words. Karma lends where it must, taking all that it can when the hand is dealt a certain way. It was the way it worked, the way the world turned around them. So it had always been. Pushed aside were the torrential thoughts of his father, a drawing line to focus on that which now was before him. His daughter, his love, and the smallest chance to get them to understand. Trust was a substance that the stallion had never been able to grasp for himself. It was a concept that eluded him throughout his childhood, a shadow spoken of by others that never quite touched his lips. His handful of encounters with other beings of flesh were insubstantial, sporadically placed learning opportunities that sparked and faded like dying flames, instituted by his father for observational purposes. More and more Call Me Jack felt like some sort of twisted experiment, his very being placed under the thumb of some sort of game, as though he were constantly being viewed through a glass, form bound against its will. The stallion was tethered to the past, as unbreakable as it was, a poison that was dripping constantly into his veins. Perhaps it had affected him to the point of this moment, driven him to these events in ways that Time itself could not gather. Where was the end of comprehension and the start of insanity? Where could one say the end of the line was, when the ending marks had been drawn not by your own mind. It occurred to that one could simply not give trust to those who bound you against your wanting, tethered you to knowledge that you did not want. Just as you could hardly bring yourself to love a father who tore apart everything that made you who you were. To have Char trust him enough, to have her listen to him after what he had done. After hearing what was never meant for any equine to hear. Love and trust seemed to partner together. How he wished he could fall into the sparks of her eyes evermore. Jack inhaled sharply at her expression, the softness that settled into the very contours of her features, pressing into his mind. There were no tears for himself as her maw reached to brush his own. Words settled against ears, fluttering themselves guiltlessly into his thoughts. Char's sentiment upon love filled his hollowness with warmth, spreading across his form as though wings had opened themselves in his ribcage. Upon the surface of his muzzle the smile formed, depthlessly the stag fell again into her eyes, wondering if she knew how odd he found her perception upon wisdom. Love was not a concept that could be held under wraps, yet he had whispered such a thing to her mind seemingly a world ago. A compassion that tasted so sweet upon the tongue, the truth of the gesture enough to impact them to the future, holding firmly to these moments. Without the doubts of the suggestion pressing into the blades of his back, the vines of the heart seemed not to wither under the speculation of the events since gone. Yet even with these enlightening bits enchanting the moments, her expression shifted again, snaring his mood to follow. The mudblood witnessed the shifting of her features, the settling of her maw as thoughts of his father shimmered into fact. A hysterical bubbling sob wished to part his throat with the words that next were given, the drawing of closure with the thought of emotion. Knowing and understanding were of different context, but the factual evidence of feeling was never truly taken into consideration. Emotional states were brought not into the learning patterns of the Chikoa, a fact that Char, as an equine devoid of Elemental blood, could not comprehend. It drew his ears forward, though, with her speaking of his surpassing his father in knowing. Greymarch bore witness himself to emotion. But Jack went beyond with understanding and comprehending these things that the Wisdom had no part in? By undergoing the straining turmoil that was his prolonged battle with feeling he had possibly gained something his father had not. Or, it was simply something the Lord of Saggezza had pushed aside for a higher state of knowing, as he would have Jack to believe. There was a barrier between what Greymarch himself could perceive as knowing, as a fact, as a reality, and what he would then shift into perspective for the stag himself to then view. It was not as though these things could be concentrated and digested, picked apart, without excessive thought. His eyes once more tracked his love with new thoughtfulness. Not a drop of island blood spread itself in her veins, yet she had made voice to something Call Me Jack would never himself have derided. It was drawing to him, fascinating, making his mind reach to hers even more so. The sheer force of her shifting emotions slammed into him as though a wall had been shattered into his mind, effectively silencing the particular train of thought he had been following. Flinching away in slight pain, he quickly ordered himself back into line, narrowing his attentions back to the mare before him. Concern flooded every ounce of his being, riding the tide of her words as he wrestled them back into a manageable dose, eyes trailing with the meaning to their daughter so nestled between. It was a question Jack would never attest to aloud, the words so inadequate in explanation. Patience drew itself thickly through his blood, calling for the reaching purpose as she continued to persuade herself of things otherwise. Loveless. The word itself cut through his mind, the context snapping itself into line, forcing himself to feel a jab of emotion again. Greymarch was a being Call Me Jack himself could not understand in full, nor explain the motive behind each action that fell into line. What level did one have to raise oneself to to rid themselves of all feeling? Truthfully, was there feeling behind the actions? Could a flesh and blood equine live with the voidness that his father culminated. It mattered little, the more the stallion thought of this. There was too much at stake for him to feel even the slightest grain of empathy. Yet empathy was what moved him the most in all creatures, second to love. The words that parted the silence next brought him forth to her, the smallest of distances between them breeched as he took in a shallow breath. There was a sense of familiarity in the gesture that was lost with the knowing of what must happen next. Char had chosen that which he felt unspeakable dread to share. The past was filled with pain that was formless, shut away as his mind threatened to collapse. A childhood without love was something she did not want to think about, yet it was more than the absence of affection she would soon have to face through his own lives. Memories were a powerful thing, and there was not a thing the stallion could do to prepare her for what was about to occur. The choice had been hers, and he was glad she was allowing him, trusting him to do such a thing. It was felt naught as a mistake in his being, but as a truth that she would have to face without his guidance. The bowing of his sculpted head and the closing of his eyes as the focus tightened. There were no walls between them. The barriers that separated such strands of thought were all of his own creation, of his making to shield her from the things that one should never have to see. The unseeable, just as the unthinkable, these unfathomable things that he was about to unveil. He was correct. Jack knew this. He started to unravel the ties and strengthen the thought. Together. One. Hear me Char. Preparation. Truth. The weaving of two strands. We are not two minds. We are one. One. The first thought was of his mother, Semira, with her glassy eyes and cold pelting. The looming figure of his father standing over her as Jack blinked his first thoughts into the world. It was the first sensation of knowing, the first sparks of pain behind his eyes. There was a bitter taste on his tongue. The pain escalated into darkness. Killer of your blood, how can you know pain? The world was cold on top of the mountain, the stone slick with rain as the small form shivered alone in the downpour. Hunger pressed against his ribs, the smallest of breaths filled his lungs. The pain and hunger sharpened his focus. Greymarch stood across the way, eyes to the sky, ignoring his small son as he mewled for food. Ignoring the tears and the sounds. Spawn of the unfeeling, how can you ask for food? All was new before him, the sky open above. He was young and without thought, still unknowing of what made the world as it was. One day I will fly, he thought. There was a pain instantly in his head. The answer was no. He would not fly. Equines did not fly. It was irrational. The voice inside his head was not his own. Hearer of voices, whose thoughts are those? Watching the Isles as they burned and twisted under the tread of the Elementals, the scream of those caught in their path. The pressure of witnessing the scarring of flesh, the smell of burning in his nostrils. Eyes rolling and bodies falling, the world shattering as beings of light crumpled. Beautiful Elementals made of Spirit twisted by the flames that purged the soil of all that lived. Gone. Jack felt the absence of live in his veins. He did not understand. He was forced to watch it again. Youth of dismay, what torture have you seen today? Father, do you love me? He asked one day, too young to keep his tongue in check. There was nothing but a blank stare to answer for the words that would not come. No words, just the eyes. The blind eyes that saw everything. Love was not in the equation. The pain started again in his skull, pressure building out and in. Love is not knowledge. Loveless... These little things and a million more, forced into her thoughts in a second. In a moment that spanned all of time. The first I agree is a labor of love, ripping out emotion still beating. The second I deride as cunningly false, purging oneself of all feeling.

[/color]

Muse:...
OOC: ...
Music: ...

[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]