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Post by Dream-Lark on Jan 31, 2016 15:12:58 GMT -6
Featuring: Rycaron and Thaumas Setting: Roughly 25 years in the past, a week after the events Lagan or Derelict Ry seeks out Thaumas, to see how he is doing.
The sun was beginning to wan in the sky overhead, slipping back toward the horizon and its watery bed. There were still hours of daylight left, and most equines with more normal hours had finished their duties for the day. So it was with one emissary, though he had another mission yet on his mind. Aqua eyes scanned the landscape before him, as he trotted toward the main training grounds for the guardians. It was his first stop, and the only place where he might be able to find information on the whereabouts of one equine, Thaumas. He hadn't seen him all week, nor his mother Thalassa. He'd found out the reason why she was on leave from her duties, and grieving down in Kiephis, and also the reason for that drunken episode he had witnessed the last week. Was the stallion alright? He hadn't heard about any further public happenings concerning the hippocampus, and he had kept his ear out for such a rumors. After a pause and polite but quick chat with a few stallions near the entrance to the grounds, the chestnut emissary was on his way toward the barracks. That was the last place the pair had seen Thaumas, and they didn't think he'd gone anywhere. With a bit of searching, and a few more questions, Rycaron found the door to the room he was searching for. With a self conscious clearing of his throat (though no one was about to hear it), he lifted his hood and rapped gently at the base of the door, signaling his surprise arrival to the occupant. Would the guardian even remember who he was? Rycaron rather doubted it, actually, and wasn't quite sure how this meeting was about to play out. Even so, he was here, and couldn't imagine not checking in on the broken Thaumas. WC//307 |
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Post by strixx-variaa on Jan 31, 2016 16:05:16 GMT -6
He'd been on third shifts for six days. He'd slept on two of those six days. Today had not been one of the two. Thaumas was in his dormitory in the barracks, a room he shared with four other young Guardians, and was about to start shaving his whisker stubble. The mirror had always been kind to him before, but today it reminded him of his mother, pointing out every visible flaw as if that would convince him to take better care of himself. Your eyes have hollows. Your skin looks dark. Are you sleeping enough? Why are your eyes red? Have you been crying?He stayed in bed until mid-afternoon now, lying awake and silent on his military-issue mattress. He rose each day about two hours past noon, ate a light breakfast, and demolished the dummies in the training arenas until an hour or so before his scheduled shift. Then he took a bath to wash the salt-sweat from his skin, shaved his whiskers, and went to work. And nobody asked him why he'd changed his name, because everyone knew. And nobody asked him why his arrest rate had doubled over the last few days, because everyone understood. And nobody tended to bother him when he was off-duty anymore, for reasons he couldn't quite -- Rap, rap, rap.The Guardian froze, the blade of his razor precariously close to the soft skin of his muzzle, and looked at the door. His roommates wouldn't have knocked; doors here didn't lock. And none of them were home, so who had come to call? And so Thaumas Anereus opened the door, soaked to the skin and with shaving lather covering his muzzle, with a sour, exhausted expression on his face and his straight razor open and suspended in midair beside him, glowing faintly teal-blue with his telekinetic signature. "Oh," he said mutely, surprised at the identity of his visitor. The chevron stripe on the chestnut's muzzle was unmistakable, and the image of those bright orange fins framing his face rang a chorus of bells in Thaumas's mind. It was the horse who'd found him on that morning, awash in shame and hard liquor. Emissary, thought Thaumas. Perhaps his mother needed him. "Please accept my apologies; I know your face, but not your name. How can I be of service?" words: 386 tags: Dream-Lark notes: ♥ |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Feb 7, 2016 9:19:04 GMT -6
Whatever Rycaron thought he had expected to see when the door opened, it was not what actually greeted aqua gaze. Those ocean colored eyes blinked, taking in equally blue eyes of the stallion before him, though they seemed sunken, more lifeless though far less glazed than the last time Rycaron had viewed them. Features were lathered up, ready for a shave, and said object was floating nearby. The guardian looked like had hadn't slept in the intervening time, but perhaps that was to be expected.
An expression of surprise gave the stallion's face more life, followed quickly by recognition. Well, at least he does remember me, or something about that morning...though not most of it. Not unexpected either. These thoughts flickered through the emissary's mind as he stood there, dipping his head to accept the apology as it was offered. "That is quite alright, you were not yourself that morning. My name is Rycaron," the hippocampus replied, introducing himself a second time. Mind strayed for a reason as to why he was really here, latching onto it seconds after giving his name.
"I heard you were available for sparring, to help teach fighting moves. The other guardians recommended you," Ry answered, tone smooth and words without a hitch. It was a bit of a lie, but a little white lie never hurt anyone, right? He couldn't very well say he was here to be nosy and pry into how this stallion was faring. Thaumas wouldn't appreciate it at all, aside from the fact that it was an utterly tactless way to approach anyone going through a grieving process.
"I'm going to be traveling to Aodh as their emissary, and thought it would be good to know," the chestnut added, and this part was entirely the truth. Two birds with one stone, as the saying went.
WC//306
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Post by strixx-variaa on Feb 7, 2016 12:22:55 GMT -6
Young Thaumas gave a short, truncated snort as a first reply. It was not common knowledge, but perhaps also not totally unpredictable, that the spotted Guardian had a healthy disrespect for Aodh herd. "Yeah," he said, turning back into the room and taking post at his mirror again. "C'never trust a damn snake." And then, too, as much as he disliked the Aodh herd (for there had not yet been found a flame so strong as could keep its light at the bottom of Cascade's wild seas, and so in Thaumas's mind the Talori could never be the inferior of the two herds), Thaumas deeply respected people like his mother and Rycaron, who traveled away from Cascade's bosom on their Emperor's command. Emissaries did their own part in keeping Aquore safe. He began to shave. He'd have introduced himself if he wasn't entirely sure that Rycaron already knew at least his given name. He'd have been hard-pressed to find Thaumas's dormitory without it, not to mention the fact that apparently he was being advertised as a martial tutor now. He looked at the finned chestnut out of the corner of his eye as he slid the straight razor down the right side of his muzzle. "Come in if you like," he offered. "I can teach you, but I start my shift in a few minutes here. Can't start it today. When d'you ship out?" words: 234 tags: Dream-Lark notes: ♥ |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Feb 21, 2016 6:10:26 GMT -6
"Indeed. I imagine it will be quite the tiring experience, constantly keeping vigilance," Rycaron agreed, somewhat surprised by the response of the other, though he wasn't sure why. No one knew anything about the Aodh actually liked them, that was for sure. Many simply weren't as blunt as Thaumas here, about it. Ocean colored gaze followed the others sturdy frame as he positioned himself before his mirror, where he must have been before Rycaron interrupted him.
At the invitation to enter, the hippocampus stepped lightly over the threshold, peering about curiously while at the same time trying to look as if he weren't. He hadn't really been in the guardian's barracks before, and it was a new experience. It was also quite...blank. Bare. Those were the only two adjectives that quickly came to his mind, as he studied the few belongings within the room. A bed, a table, the mirror, a basin for water. Thaumas clearly didn't put much stock in personal belongings. Or did he simply keep them elsewhere, since he lived in the barracks? A mystery Rycaron was sure he would never know the answer to. Not that he needed to for any reason.
"That's alright. You look quite tired yourself, and I wouldn't want to put any strain on you before your shift," the golden stallion replied easily, remarking lightly on how exhausted the other appeared to be. "Have you not been sleeping? Eventually it will begin to affect your work," words were light and said with an air of friendly advice, put in a much better fashion than 'you look like the bottom of a flounder drug through a coral bed'.
"I head out in a month's time, I recently found out my assignment and want to be as fully prepared as possible," Rycaron added, a sentiment he was sure the other could agree with, even if Ry didn't know him that well.
WC//318
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Post by strixx-variaa on Feb 22, 2016 11:39:49 GMT -6
Thaumas Anereus didn't reply straight away; instead, he rinsed the cut hair and lather from his straight-razor in the basin, and wiped the blade dry on a rag. Have you not been sleeping? he'd asked, and in that moment Thaumas was made starkly aware of the difference between the type of person who entered the armed forces and the type of person who chose a life in politics and diplomacy. It was a question none of his fellows had bothered to ask, and the casual attitude with which it was offered by this almost-stranger struck Thaumas as oddly defining of Rycaron's character. It would've been rather defining of his mother's, at least, and Thalassa shared her profession with this sunkissed youth, so Thaumas was inclined to think there was a causal relationship there. He grappled with the question of whether to acknowledge Rycaron's inquiry as an expression of kindness, or caring, or whether to stay silent and ignore it. "I'm in the training yards every day around three past," he said. "I'm there until... about half an hour before now." An invitation. The sound of wiry, coarse whiskers being cut ripped through the air as Thaumas dragged his rinsed straight-razor down the left side of his muzzle now. He tapped it on the edge of his water basin on the downstroke. "Don't come every day unless you're already fit," said the Guardian, eyeing Rycaron's body in the mirror. The young Emissary was lean, and looked fit enough, but without obvious bulk or lack thereof it was difficult to tell where a person's strengths lied. A beat pause. "Are you already fit?" words: 271 tags: Dream-Lark notes: d'you wanna do some of their training stuff in rp as well? |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Feb 27, 2016 10:49:18 GMT -6
There was silence for several moments, filled only by the scrapping sound of a razor against hair, the swish of water, and tapping of metal against stone. The chestnut equine stood there calmly, posture relaxed, as his roan counterpart thought about and then ignored his question. Well, perhaps ignored was too harsh a word, he simply didn't answer it. But ears did flicker forward at the invitation. At least that meant he hadn't overstepped any social bounds by coming here, and checking on the guardian.
The emissary didn't need to look down at himself to see what Thaumas must see in the mirror. He knew his reflection well enough. Frame was on the short side, slender though not skinny. He supposed he could be concealing wiry muscle, but he didn't have the built look of someone who was obviously in shape--because he wasn't. "I am not as fit as most of the guardians, no, though I do basic exercises when I can. I can run some distance, and with speed, but strength is not my forte," Rycaron admitted, and was not at all ashamed of the fact. It was a reason he had never been inclined to become a guardian.
"Would I be imposing too much on your time, if I came a few times a week?"
WC//217
Notes: I'd love to <3 Could either time skip here later, or create a new thread~
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Post by strixx-variaa on Mar 8, 2016 17:02:18 GMT -6
Thaumas shook his head in the negative after running his straight razor under the bottom of his jaw and around the curve of his chin. "Fine by me," he said aloud once the blade was away from his skin. "Give yourself the best chance in Aodh." The young Guardian said it as if he were confirming Rycaron's unspoken statement to the same effect. He liked that Rycaron was willing to put in more work than the bare minimum, and though he wasn't quite aware of it yet, the promise of something unrelated to his work or his father infused Thaumas with a little more hope than he'd recently had. Wiping his muzzle on a bright Talori-blue towel, Thaumas nodded at the door, indicating that they should use it. "I have to go now. Let me show you around."
"Put your back into it, Thaum!"The sound of his father's voice rang loud and strong in Thaumas Anereus's ears, though it was a mere shade of the horse who'd commanded it. His back-roundhouse connected with the training dummy with a satisfying thwock sound, and he was glad for the wraps on his legs. He'd suffered tiny stress fractures on more than one occasion as a youth before he learned to put splints and overreaches on during training. Thaumas paused, stretching his hinds and back as he caught his breath. Back into it, indeed.He expected Rycaron today, but he wasn't sure when. And to be honest, he was looking forward to it. Drown out the ghosts, and whatnot. words: 257 tags: Dream-Larknotes: cool cool! i don't mind continuing it in this thread if you want :D and if not i'll edit this post, no problem! |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Jul 16, 2016 8:34:21 GMT -6
The orange hippocampus breathed a soft sigh of relief when Thuamas nodded his head in agreement. It seemed his plan had worked out after all, and he hadn't caused any more undue pain to the chestnut roan. "Thank you," Rycaron murmured, tone entirely sincere as he watched Thaumas dry off with a bright blue towel. The young stallion stepped outside the wooden portal when the other gestured to it, dipping his head in thanks once more, and falling into step beside the larger equine.
Blue eyes took in everything about the compound, sharp mind taking in all the details his stoic companion offered to him during the short tour, committing them to memory so he would not get lost again.
It was later in the afternoon, the day finally beginning to cool off, when the sun glinted off the chestnut coat of a young stallion making his way into the training yard. Gaze darted about, hoping he didn't look ridiculous, as he sought out the familiar and large figure of Guardian Thaumas. The emissary felt fairly foolish, though he walked with as much confidence as he could. Weakness shown here would only lead to being picked on, the tough and rowdier guardians drawn to such things like sharks to chum.
He'd done some reading, like any good bookworm, and had wrapped up his legs in preparation for this venture. His limbs weren't as sturdy as those who practiced daily, or toughened up by scar tissue and muscle. The wraps were supposed to help protect, though he was under no illusion that was going to leave without bruises. However...he could feel one of the wraps coming loose, beginning to slip on his hing leg, and he resisted the urge to shake the appendage. It would only make it come looser...perhaps he could ask Thaumas the best method of securing these things. Looking like a fool to the other hippocampus didn't quite as bad as any of these others, though he still wanted to give the best impression possible.
The emissary arrived right in time to catch sight of Thaumas' sturdy legs connecting with a dummy with an echoing thunk, and resisted the impulse to wince. He would not like to ever be on the receiving end of that power. It made the slender stallion feel even more like a fish out of water than he already was, though he took a deep breath, drew himself skyward, sent a quick prayer to the Wave Mother, and presented himself to his trainer.
"Thaumas, I am not interrupting, am I?" Rycaron called, tone low as he drew nearer, not wanting to startle the guardian should he be in a trance like state he'd read could happen--did it actually happen?
WC//457 |
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Post by strixx-variaa on Jul 31, 2016 19:46:57 GMT -6
He heard his name called from somewhere to his back, and the voice was exactly the one he needed to hear. With sides still heaving from his last set, the burly draft horse turned more or less on his haunches to greet Rycaron. "No," he said, breathing hard through his nostrils. The word came out somewhere in between a true 'no' and a 'nah,' belying his shortness of breath. "Good t'see you." The flash of deep, royal blue on Rycaron's cannon bones caught the Guardian's eyes, and he nodded his head once, sharply, in approval, mouth still open as he caught his breath. "Those were wise," he said, indicating the protective wraps on the chestnut's legs. He had planned to take Rycaron down to the barracks tack room to get him fitted for boots of his own out of the communal stock, but was pleased to see that the Emissary had taken his own initiative. If there was one thing Thaumas appreciated perhaps above all in a character, it was a person's dedication to do work, and to do it properly. So far, Rycaron had not only made his promises, but he'd kept them, and shown that he was taking the whole thing rather seriously by showing up prepared. And, too, the chestnut's hair was short and his tail not awfully long, so Thaumas didn't need to remind him to tie it away. Just like Nereus did.For the space of half a heartbeat Thaumas felt as though someone had driven a knife straight into his breast. He'd thought of his father's signature knot, the way he kept his long, thick tail out of his way when he was on duty or in training, and it pained him to remember. But he didn't need to remind this one -- and besides, they wouldn't do anything too complex today. And so he forced himself to put the memory of the knot aside. "May I?" he said, indicating Rycaron's wraps again. He meant to inspect them, regardless of any pride the aforementioned may hold in his leg-wrapping skill. It wouldn't do for him to get caught in a tangle or incur a real injury as a result of ill-fitted protection. words: 368 tags: Dream-Lark notes: sorry this is so late! T_T |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Aug 14, 2016 10:45:35 GMT -6
The emissary resisted the urge to sigh in relief when he saw the other stallion nod his head in approval. Good, he had done well in his research, and it seemed like Thaumas was the sort to appreciate preparedness in others. Rycaron waited patiently while the other worked to catch his breath, studying him and the dummy he was working against. He knew he was being studied in turn, but that didn't bother him. No, what did bother him was the fact that he could swear he saw a flicker of pain in the other's expression, though it was gone a heartbeat later. But Thaumas kept his expressions so minimal, he was so stoic, it was hard to read him, even for Rycaron. Maybe it was something that came with getting to know the roan stallion over a longer period of time.
When the other hippocampus inquired if he could inspect the wraps, Rycaron nodded his head, offering out one of his forelegs. "I was actually hoping I could ask you to check these out and make sure they fit properly. I did my best from reading, but reading and practice at putting these on are so different...I know for a fact one of my rear wraps is coming loose," the chestnut explained, as he submitted himself for inspection.
WC//220
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