Participants:
| Scene Title | The Runaway Bride |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A meeting of long lost kin has a dreamer attempting to set a young woman back on the right path. |
| Date | November 27, 2010 |
The Township of O'Gaille
The alley littered with too much refuse, both of human and animal variety puts of noxious fumes that are best left undescribed. From the darkest corner two pairs of eyes, one yellow, one forbidden blue, make pin lights in the dank gloom. Waiting. All around the ruckus of the guard and people of the market sound out as they search for the missing panther.
Bhangra, though owned by a merchant, was once a ruler in his own right. The sleek and lithe creature turned to nothing more than a slave to man was proud… once upon a time, in a time when the light shone. Now in the darkness, he lies in wait, with the savior. The uneasy rattle of breath is thankfully masked by the loud voices crying thief, but still it earns a touch.
"We have far to go," the whisper tickles in his ear. "Can you take me to where the orb leads?"
Turning his great head to look back at his rider, the large cat blinks twice in response. A woman in a dress of white with eyes that spark blue. The forbidden color. The color of dreams so real they could be memories, the color of dreams too good to leave.
Though the full moon lights the way decently, nothing truly beats the light of a torch. The young red-headed maiden with photocopy-gray eyes makes her way silently through the streets, her soft slipper shoes making no sound as they carry her along. She wears a simple yet lovely dress of black and green, the colors contrasting her pale, milky skin, which bears nothing in the way of flaws. Long, flowing sleeves of a sheer black fabric trail along behind in the breeze caused by her brisk movement, and a
The wife of the merchant who owned Bhangra is out and about tonight, stormy eyes searching the alleys as she softly makes cooing noises, calling for the panther who she adored so much. "Bhangra!" She calls into the darkness, eyes wide with worry.
Keira's appearance in this dream world certainly does not quite match the one she puts forth in the real world. She's…soft, here. Almost pure, the way her white skin shines in the firelight that mingles with moonlight, with that look of genuine concern creasing her features.
Though the full moon lights the way decently, nothing truly beats the light of a torch. The young red-headed maiden with photocopy-gray eyes makes her way silently through the streets, her soft slipper shoes making no sound as they carry her along. She wears a simple yet lovely dress of black and green, the colors contrasting her pale, milky skin, which bears nothing in the way of flaws. Long, flowing sleeves of a sheer black fabric trail along behind in the breeze caused by her brisk movement, and an ornate hairpiece holds a long trail of similar fabric to her head.
The wife of the merchant who owned Bhangra is out and about tonight, stormy eyes searching the alleys as she softly makes cooing noises, calling for the panther who she adored so much. "Bhangra!" She calls into the darkness, eyes wide with worry.
Keira seems so…soft, here. Almost pure, the way her white skin shines in the firelight that mingles with moonlight, with that look of genuine concern creasing her features.
A flash of teeth and a deep hissing are all that answer the worried call of the woman. No matter the sentiment behind it; she is the wife of his slaver, the one who subjugated him and treated him as a packmule. The cat's muscles tense as he crouches low to the ground, wriggling in anticipation for the inevitable pounce that would seal this woman's fate.
Only the feel of the alabaster hand at his neck holds the beast back, resulting in a low rumbling growl that could be considered a mutter. From the mouth of the alley, it is possible that Keira might hear the complaints of the cat. Even if she can't see him.
"We will wait, Bhangra," the whisper in his ear commands. "Wait until she is gone and then we will move swiftly from here."
Keen ears pick up the sound of the faint hiss as Keira nears the mouth of the alley, her soft footsteps pausing in her trek through the marketplace. With torch held aloft, she chances a quick glance around, ensuring that none are around her. Thankfully, none are, with everyone frantically running about elsewhere in hunt for the giant cat.
"Bhangra?" Soft footsteps bring the woman deeper into the alley at a cautious pace, holding her torch high to cast the light from the flame as far as she can. "Bhangra, are you here? You are not hurt, are you?" Her voice is soft, concern writ across her features. Gentle footsteps draw her ever nearer to the danger that is the panther and the simply dressed redhead.
Then, another glance over her shoulder, and she hisses her own whisper into the darkness, remaining close to the alley. "I can help you get away from him."
The low growl turns to the scream of a panther. Eerie in its cry, the giant cat swipes at the air with razor sharp claws, warning the woman not to come any closer. Its yellow eyes glow dangerously from the depths of the shadow.
"If you are able to help him, why haven't you done it sooner?" The innocent question comes from the simply dressed woman sitting in the saddle. A saddle that belongs to her husband, decorated the same colors as his bride's dress, the colors of the house. "I'm not convinced that this isn't some sort of trap." The jeweled blade in the other woman's hand rises up, a sword unlike any other. The sword belonging to one man alone, her leige, the King of All.
Keira stops short, still holding her flame aloft. "Bhangra, I do not wish you harm, I have only ever loved you!" She cries this with tears in her eyes, though she makes no move to come closer. Instead, gray eyes turn up toward the simply dressed woman, her expression anguished. "Because I am only one woman. I could not get away from that man, just as poor Bhangra could not."
Sad eyes turn back to the panther. "I'm like he was…but I can't leave. This is his chance."
Then, those gray eyes catch on the sword and its jewels. "That— that sword belongs to the King of All! How did you get that?!"
"A gift of protection."
The simple answer comes whispered through lips as pink as the blush on the young woman's marble white skin. Skin not so different from the merchant's wife. Though larger in stature, taller most definitely, the redhead on the mount carries a regal bearing all of her own. Like a proud lioness trapped in the body of a mundane human.
"You can leave, if you want…" At her soft words, the great panther rises from his crouch and takes a few steps forward to look down at the petite woman. The slope of his feline nose makes the creature's slitted eyes look somewhat crossed. The woman in the saddle with a tangle of curled crimson hair flowing down her back gazes down with him. "Drop the torch and give me your hand."
The offer is made with the tall woman's hand reaching toward the matron of the merchant's house. A gift of freedom in exchange for silence.
The matron's gray eyes follow the panther as he rises, taking steps toward Keira. She offers him a fond look, before her eyes turn up toward the other fiery-haired woman in the saddle, and the hand that is offered toward her. Stormy eyes studying the offered hand for a moment of indecision; a brief glance is cast back toward the mouth of the alley.
Then, Keira makes her choice. The torch is dropped to the ground, its flame landing in a nearby puddle and sizzling out. A determined look on her face, the merchant's wife reaches out, taking the tall woman's hand in a tight grip, climbing onto Bhangra's back behind her. "If I am coming, then we must leave as swiftly as possible."
Those words herald the first leap of the panther, first from the alley and then the trio bound out of the limits of the town, leaving the twinkling of searchlights far behind them. Only once they've reached a point where the village can no longer be seen does the panther slow to a steady walk. Only then does the woman speak again. "You are conflicted," she begins, her voice neutral and carrying no judgment toward the escaped bride. "You wish to belong in so many places but you are afraid of being rejected. So instead of putting your faith in your true path, you split yourself into too many pieces. You break your soul apart to walk all paths instead of the one you truly belong."
Shifting in the saddle with the panther's slow gait, the redheaded warrior finally sheathes the sword in the saddle's scabbard and turns to look at the woman sitting behind her. "Hold Bhangra," she tells the great war cat, pausing until he has come to a full stop.
Raising the hand that so recently carried the sword, she presses her thumb to the woman's forehead, between her eyes. The dull grey color of the other woman's eyes spark to a vivid blue, the same forbidden color of the rider's own. "You should remember who you really are."
Keira holds on to Bhangra as they bound out of town, watching the buildings pass by and slowly shrink down into the horizon. As her taller companion speaks, Keira turns her eyes toward her, brows raising. "Pardon? Conflicted?" She asks in a questioning tone, tilting her head to the side. "I— I don't understand what you mean…" A frown forms on the smaller woman's face.
As the thumb is placed upon her forehead, the shorter woman blinks a few times, her eyes crossing to peer up at the warrior woman's thumb, even as they change to the forbidden color. "I— I was married to my husband when I was young, and I have suffered him for many long years. I've resisted him when I could, but…I'm just one person. I— how do I remember more than that?"
"I am just one person, Bhangra is just one person… One person can make a world of difference, cousin." The panther begins to walk again, diverging off the road and into a grassy plain. As the three make their way through toward a pillared forest in the distance, she falls silent again if only to allow the smaller woman time to piece together her words. "Simply put, you must focus on what you truly believe. If you wish the life of a blood thirsty killer, then that is what you will have. If you want the love of a family, you must focus on that."
The great cat stops again, this time near a river. In the distance the shadowy outlines of tiny boats can be made out, circling the docks to a small village hidden by a copse of trees. One pale hand is offered toward the runaway bride and the warrior gives her a crooked half-smile that she knows she's never seen on those lips. "This is where I have to leave you, you can't go where I'm trying to get to… but I know I'll see you soon. Take care of yourself, cousin."
Keira listens intently, her brows raised high as her fingers fidget together, clasping and unclasping. "Focus…on what I truly believe." She repeats this to herself, her eyes turning down toward Bhangra's back. "I'll make sure to try to do that, then." She raises her eyes back up to Delia, her brows crinkled in an almost confused expression.
Then, they're stopping, and reluctantly, Keira slides off of the panther's back, lovingly stroking his flank. "Where do I go from here? And…promise me, with all of your heart, that you will take care of Bhangra. I have loved him over the years, more than I could even pretend to love my husband." She turns her gaze up toward the taller woman.
"Why do you keep calling me cousin?"
The panther turns his great head to stare at the woman, seeming rather nonplussed. The low rattle of his breath is nothing more than acknowledgment of her words. In contrast, the woman on his back nods and smiles, "I'll care for him as long as we are together. His path isn't the one I'm on either, a means to an end." Meaning that they're only companions for a short time.
Leaning low in the saddle, the redhead smiles a little wider, more catlike with sly narrow eyes that spark in the darkness. "You'll find out…" she says gently before taking a deep breath. Puckering her lips, she lets out a gentle breeze that washes over the woman, scented like lavender and mint. "Wake up, Keira… and remember what I said. Cousin."
The maiden, with her fair ivory skin and burning red locks, smiles faintly up to the tall woman, nodding. "Thank you. I'm sure he'll be happier now." She takes a step away, smiling into that nicely scented breeze. "I hope I find out soon, then…thank you for freeing me." She lifts her hand to wave to the woman with a smile on her—
Keira waves up to the ceiling in her dingy bedroom, her eyes fluttering open. Amadeus is out tonight— nights like these make her wonder if he'll ever come back. Confused for a moment that the pleasant breeze is gone, Keira sits up in bed, looking around the dark room. At the foot of the bed, snoring faintly, is the large black Great Dane, Odin, who is quite unaware of his mistress' consciousness.
After a moment, Keira lays back down, sparking up a joint with a frown on her face. "Fuckin' weird-ass dreams."