The Air of Change [OPEN; Immortals, mortals, anyone]

[frazzledazzle]

FORGIVEN

Years. It was years that had passed, not minutes. Friends were gone, family aged and passed away. The land moved and changed beneath her feet, but still she stayed the same. The lands were much different now. Peace settled into the lands as the uprisings finally dispersed and settled. Forgiveness had seen it all. She was a young immortal, fairly young for one. Frozen at four, she had seen six almost seven more years pass by her emerald optics. Having seen so many years pass already, she knew the peace wouldn't last forever, and that change was on its way. Yet that did not mean that she would waste the time that she did have in peace. Shaking out her tri colored paint bodice out, she checked out her surroundings. Recently she had been finding herself at the Magical Springs. Maybe it was comforting, the familiar sound of constantly running water, or the fact that the place was filled with magic and she was a magical being herself. Sighing, she stepped forward looking into the waters. Where were the other gods and goddesses? And Sinister? It was time to get out and explore, find out what was going on in her world.

Long pearly white pillars struck forward, clearing a way for herself. Sun flecked down in spots through the canopy of the trees, the warm air a pleasant greeting to her delicate paper thins. Grass grew long and lush, and the woodland creatures spoke in excited chatter. Banner raised she proudly weaved between the trees, optics focused on the opening to a field, the sound of water a ways off in the distance. She remembered this place vaguely, where the sun never shone and the stars twinkled endlessly whether it was day or night. It was a place of calm and peace. Something drew her there, and she was curious as to what it was.

Breaking free into the opening, she stopped suddenly, awestruck by the beauty. Every time she had come to this placeithad always struck her. The moon at its fullest shined bright above her, endlessly luminous. Her delicate maw dropped open slightly, her lovely green eyes bright with the reflection of the lights above her. Her pelt glowed slightly, her white more luminescent than normal. Collecting herself, she let a smile roll across her lovely maw. Some moments in life could take all the pain and misery away from it, even if just for a moment. Focusing on the sandy shores, she sought out life, in any form. Sighing, she walked forward, sensing the emptiness. Stopping as her flints reached the waters, Forgiven looked out to the edges of the earth. Birds darted to and fro under the soft midnight lights, and she nickered out. Unnoticed, the birds continued their chase and moved into the woods. Loneliness filled her mind. It could drive one mad, but Forgiven held on to her wits. She knew her immortal family would return sometime. Patience was all she needed. Maybe Sinister had found more recruits. And where was Chaos? She inwardly wished both well, and hoped that they were not as lonely as she. Breathing in, she felt the winds pick up around her.

Lifting her cranium to the skies, she closed her emerald dark optics. Calm fell over her as she focused. Dark storm clouds slowly pulled overhead, the winds picking up as they formed. Black, brown and white hairs pulled back from her frame as the wind tugged at her. Waves that had once lapped at her flints now crashed before her. A low rumble called from the skies, light fleeting through the clouds, electricity filling the air. Opening her eyes, she saw without seeing, her focus deep within the chasms of her mind. Everything was slowed to her as she watched a tunnel begin to build within the dark clouds. It was large, frightening, and all controlled by Forgiven. It was a sign, a calling to those who knew her mark, to those who were pulled to this sort of impending doom. She wanted to be found, this immortal fae. She was ready for the immortals to regroup, for life to start once more for her. Arching her nape, she calmed the cyclone to dark clouds and low thunder and waded into the calmed waters to wait.

Forgiven

[Lucine]

Lucine did not forgive and forget easily. In fact, she found it quite difficult to move on once someone had strayed away from her side. Angelic in appearance perhaps she was, but she did not like to share. This resistance had always led to problems with others. As a filly, sharing was difficult and often led to fights. As mare, sharing meant turning her back entirely on the fool who thought she would share him or her with anyone. This didn't necessarily apply to lovers. Lucine didn't have lovers, didn't take them aside and coo sweet things and promises into any ears of any sort. She loved, yes, but she didn't know exactly what she loved quite yet. Just that something out there was cooing those sweet promises to her soul and it, with a reaction akin to Pavlov's Hounds, could do nothing but follow it. Simply a passenger along for the ride. She detested it, hated it, loved it. This of course often led her to random places where faint lickings of distant memories would eat at the dark recesses of her mind, clawing forward and scratching at her head so hard that she would run until it stopped bothering her. The physical exhaustion often drove her to forget what she was forgetting. But running away never works very well, even if it was a tactic she had been employing her whole life. At least, the parts she could remember.

If there was a single thing about Lucine--besides her wretched bipolar tendencies and seemingly possessive characteristics--it was that she was beautiful. A grey only by the tell of the dark skin around her muzzle, but otherwise a bright, frothy white with inklings and hintings of the pebbled dots most greys get with age. Not that she was old, seven summers was still young, right? But her beauty was a flaw, only in that it made her flaws more obvious. The ugly scarring that was left over from what appeared to be an awful wound was made more obvious by her flaw, her beauty. It stretched from the back of her left ear and jaggedly forked its way along her cheek bone, down her jaw and ending beneath the soft fleshy part between her molars. She should be dead. From the ugly looks of it she should have had her cheek bone smashed and her teeth spilling out from the open crevice. But she was alive, with only the scar to tell that tale and no memories of the supposed battle. She assumes it was a battle, at least, she'd never have gone down without a fight. Or would she have? Despite Lucine's best hope that she was still well and truly herself, that "she of now" was the same as "she of then." If you miss out on what is perhaps the single event that changes your life forever, are you still the same? If you don't know who you were, do you know who you are?

Such thoughts were tiring.

Lucine's legs had a way of moving. Not the sensuous flowing, graceful lifting of the actual limbs. Not necessarily the physical motion at all. They just...moved. They went, and she followed. She had as much control over her comings and goings as the ocean did, as the wind did. Deceptively little. Eventually, such wanderings take their toll. She is tired, she wants to rest, but the big black space that echoes hauntingly in the space where memories should be does not allow for rest. And so she walks. The memories, of the lack thereof, have a warm feel whenever they are not cold. She think that whatever they are, within them, there must have been an immense amount of happiness. She does not feel happy any longer. Legs aching, yet unable to stop, she drags herself into this open space. The beauty does not awe her, does not stop her. She can't stop, though she begs her legs to do just that. Sometimes she wishes for the endless sleep. Something to pull her under and hold her, drown her so she doesn't drown herself in the darkness of the not-memories, the ones that either never were, or never could be again.

Her legs quiver when she stops. It is not for rest, she feels it in her aching bones, it for...something. Something she can't lick, something she can't even taste or smell, but something that she wants. A low keen in her voice gets stuck in her throat, coming out like a wounded foal. She wants to sleep. Why can't she sleep? The moon casts her shadow into the water, the resulting shape black and ominous. It pulls the warmth from the black depths of her mind and she finds herself longing to curl up in the water, to chase the warmth. Lucine thinks she sees a ghost, but she has been wandering for so long that she can't really be sure. Sleep will come eventually, her minds supplies. Whether it is the endless sleep, or a moments respite, she does not care. If the white ghost, the pretty thing basking in the moon's cool rays will help her sleep then she thinks that maybe the darkness in her mind will recess a little, and the fear that she will wander until her legs break and she is forced to flop and seize in an attempt to continue dragging herself--well maybe that fear will follow the darkness.

Just a little while longer, she thinks. Just a little while longer.

[frazzledazzle]

Forgiven

As Forgiven calmed, the earth seemed to take a slow, deep breath. The ocean moved back to its gentle washing of the shore. Thunder rolled gently in the distance, calming to Forgiven, the sky clearing, revealing the bright, shiny stars above the territory. Lowering her maw towards the waters, the looked down and into her reflection. Bright emerald optics looked back at her, filled with loss and sadness, but hope. This place, her home had once prospered, many equines traveled through or lived in Arcane's realms and it was an exciting time for Forgiven. Those times were all that she looked forward to, and she could only hope that her home would do so well in the future. She had time to wait though. A small smile appeared on her maw as she thought of it. Time. She was not owned by it anymore, forever stuck in a youthful form, though her mind grew and expanded.

The sound of sand shifting entered Forgiven's audits. Turning her head slowly, she scanned the beach, her optics coming to a rest upon a small white figure. Her movement was lovely, though it was apparent that the fae was exhausted. Friend or foe? Softly snorting, she remembered how much power coursed through her veins. She was not to fear anything anymore, only open her heart to those who sought kindness. Suddenly the figure stopped. Tilting her cranium slightly, she observed the white femme, curious as to what stopped her. Exhaustion? Fear? Turning her bodice, she faced the white lady, the calm waves lapping against her side.

Striding forward, Forgiven made her way towards the other, strong strides pushing her through the waters. As she came closer and closer, she moved more out of the waters as to move more freely. Lo' there. She uttered softly, her vocals like sweet warm honey. Stopping a few yards away, she gave the other her space, unsure as to what her intentions were. Are you alright M'Lady? She spoke, her concern seeping through her tones. Something about the little white fae concerned her. Something was not quite right with this one. She seemed...empty. Empty in a way she could not describe or understand. She would figure out what was the matter in time, but for now, she wanted to help the femme in her current situation. Food. Water. Shelter. Rest. It was apparent to Forgiven that this moon colored femme needed all of these, and if she accepted, Forgiven would help her.

OCC: I apologize for taking so long. I hope you're still interested

[Lucine]

Lucine marveled at how easily the mare strode from the water; how her legs cut through the liquid and easily pushed her forward. She wonders if her legs would still do the same. But staring isn't polite, so maybe she should stop. Only it's so difficult to get her body to obey her these days, and her eyes remain glued on the femme in front of her. The other seems cautious, wary of Lucine. Lucine hums distantly, brokenly at the thought. What is there to fear from her? Her legs tremble, her heart skips beats. She weak, alone and tired. A pathetic sight, probably. A harmless one. But erring on the side of caution was probably a wise choice. Has she ever been cautious? She doesn't know; doesn't remember. The scar on the side of her face itches.

She's speaking. But Lucine's mind is functioning at the rate it should be for one of her age. It is slower, not as fast as it used to be. She thinks that maybe she was fast, once upon a time. The words carry through one curved ear and out the other. She cocks her head in confusion, ears twitching slightly. And then she understands. Lucine's lips twitch into something like a grimace that she might've intended to be a smile. "I don't know, she says softly, eyes distant, I think I'm looking for something. But I don't know what. I have to keep looking though. Have to keep looking... Her muscles ache at the thought of moving again--just standing is a trial--but she manages another step, another two, and she's on the move again. Thin pillars quiver under their burden. Lucine makes it five steps before her front legs fold and she is on her knees in the sandy dirt by the water. She grunts when her hind legs follow, and she is left lying on her flank, limbs kicking up as she attempts to get back to her feet. She thinks that she must make quite a sight, writhing in the dirt, and finds that even if she cares enough to stop she can't. But her body is tired, crying for a sleep it isn't yet destined to have, and she finally lays still on her side, her breathing loud in the quiet of the night.

There's movement around her. Distantly she knows that the mare from earlier is moving around her, but she can't really even bring herself to lift her head. The dirt is warm against her cheek, but still she feels cold. She knows she won't die, not yet, because it'd far too easy and whatever has her caught isn't keen on letting her go anytime soon. Lucine wishes someone would give up. Her eyes feel heavy, and she wants to close them, but when she does the darkness where the not-memories aren't makes her jolt back to awareness with a full bodied startle. Her flank quivers, and Lucine nickers softly. It's a pathetic sound, wounded and sad, but she can't seem to stop it. Somewhere in the back of her mind she feels the darkness shift and slither, scratching at the walls of her skull, trying to escape the cage that is her mind. Even the darkness wants out.

ooc: No worries!

[frazzledazzle]

FORGIVEN

Life. It's the sort of thing that makes you, breaks you, turns you to gold or to dust. It will take everything from you just to turn around and give you everything. Filled with stories and tales of the great, and the not so great, life continued on, with or without its survivors. Forgiven would be one of those tales one day, after life turned her into dust, or took her memories and her sanity. Goddess of Air, keeper of peace, Forgiven lived for those who were in need. She fought tooth and nail to make sure that punishment was just and right for all those who deserved it, and that none would touch a hair on an innocent's head. A glorious looking fae, standing 17hh, she was delicate, yet sturdy. Muscle lined her delicately carved bones, and a silken bay and white tobiano coat stretched across the lean muscles. Emerald optics searched from under her multi-colored forelock, intense and never satisfied. With all the life and lands that she'd seen, she still wanted more to store within her ageless cranium.

The look of, "The lights are on but nobody's home," suddenly registered in Fi's mind. The scar, the look of pure exhaustion...where had this little lady been? What had she seen that her mind was seemingly protecting her from? Snorting, she twitched as the femme's stilts began to buckle. In one swift motion as the grey fae was falling, Forgiven was at her side, concern covering her petite and lovely cranium. Avoiding flailing limbs, Fi nickered gently with concern as the femme settled into that sands.

Lowering her maw to the femme's skull, she gently nuzzled her nape. Easy there, you're alright. Circling her once, then twice, Fi checked the mare's bodice. It was apparent she hadn't stopped walking for a long time. Observing her whole condition at a closer viewpoint, Fi began to frown. She needed help, but for now, she was doing what she needed to do the most; rest. Finally coming around to the femme's back, she carefully laid down beside her. Quietly she hummed, soothing warm tones, ones that her own mother used to hum to her as a filly. Unsure as to how she would react, Fi began to gently groom her whole nape, gently flicking at the flies that dared to near them with her own banner. Pausing her humming, she spoke. My name is Forgiven, but you may call me Fi. I'm not quite sure where you are from, or where you are headed, but you need to let your body rest. Whatever you may be searching for can wait. She continued in a softer voice. I am here to help. Softly she continued to hum once more, continuously grooming the weary fae's pelt..

[Lucine]

Warmth bloomed along her back, and unwillingly she relaxed back into the feeling. Lucine's muscles unclenched, and her body released its death grip on the tension it had been harboring. Even her legs relaxed into the sand, seemingly content to abort the mission for now. Teeth worked along her nape, and while she flinched and worried at the first touch, she slowly gave into the relaxing feel of it. It'd been a long since someone had last done this for her. Forgiven, she wondered. An interesting name. Perhaps fitting for such a creature. Lucine marveled at the power she felt resting beside her, curled around her. Protected, yes, and it felt wonderful. A soft sigh slipped out between her lips, and she relaxed, stretching her legs out and giving in to the heaviness in her eyes. If this fae wished to help, then Lucine would accept it for now, after all, it was better to take this rest while she could, while her legs did not, could not, move. Darkness chased her behind her eyelids as the began to fall shut, too heavy to keep open. Sleep was often avoided for the nightly terrors that followed, but perhaps with this other worldly creature resting at her back, she would sleep without dreams.

Lucine didn't really believe in luck. She believed in fate, and things happening for a reason, but she did not believe in luck. She had good reason not to believe in such nonsense, as she was never very "lucky." Bad things happened to her all the time; things just happened that she had no control over. So when the darkness chased her out of her own mind she was not surprised. She'd been walking a beach, the ever-present shadow to her side, too large to be her own on a half-moon night. The roar of the waves had been drowned out by the roaring in her ears and she was suddenly no longer on the beach, warm and protected, but lurching up through the darkness as a shadow cast itself over her and struck her across the head. There was bright light, a flash of red and then the darkness surged forward to smother her.

She awoke to sunlight. The warm presence behind her had not vanished in the night, and she grunted shifting her body away from the other's body to face her. Lucine cocked her head to the side, eyeing Forgiven with wariness. Lo, Fi. You may call me Lucine. Her voice cracked, scratchy and unused, none of the melodic, lyrical beauty that the other mare had spoken with. Her ears flickered back and forth nervously before she dug her front pillars into the pliant earth and managed to lift the front of her body of the ground in an awkward, dog-like, sitting position. The hind legs shook though, as she tried to command them underneath herself in order to stand. They finally cooperated, and she rose from the ground, trembling like a new-born. The water look far more appealing then the ground did, though and she slowly edged closer to it to dip her nose into the cool liquid, keeping her head half-turned so she could watch the strange fae while she drank. Strangers in a strange world, after all.