Kiss Like An Elephant


brian_icon.gif delia2_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title Kiss Like an Elephant
Synopsis …because it's a HUGE deal.
Date December 4, 2010

Range of the Forgotten

The dark night sky, blacker than black makes the brilliance of the full moon— and the light it gives— that much brighter. Twinkling stars stare down onto the Kingdom of All, yet this place is less populated than many others. A small mountain village of peasants rests along the mountainside. The windy mountain path curves along the ice-cold water beside it. While fields lie just adjacent, extending into icy patches along the chilly water. Hard times have fallen on this part of the kingdom within its scope and altitude the bitter cold wind whips between the mountain peaks, it's breeze far chillier than the air itself. What was once presumably a place of plenty has become barren and cold.

The Lord of the land is nowhere to be seen and most within the village itself are tucked away in their small makeshift homes, if only to refuse the entrance of the cold. Yet at least one soul stands by that chilly bank. Her long auburn hair tucked beneath a furry hooded cloak wisps out with the movement of the wind while the rest of her body is concealed beneath the heavy white fabric. Wafts of warm breath blow away from her body while she stares up at the moon. Unlike her cohort, the cold doesn't scare her. In fact, seeing her breath is but a gentle reminder she's still alive.

The mammoth footprints left behind the soft snow are filled in moments later by the blowing wind. Atop the gargantuan beast two figures perch in a massive saddle posted by a comfortable little gazebo curtained by heavy tapestry. One of the two is bundled tightly in furs and blankets, the other looking more like a paper bag princess in nothing but a sundress. Yet she doesn't seem cold.

"The orb pointed this way, the Shadow Monster is over these mountains, I can just feel it." The young woman's confident tone is coupled with a small smile and the stare of bright blue eyes toward the man. "Thanks for showing me the way, I don't think I would have found it on my own."

Despite being overly large, the elephant is a good climber or at least plodder as it trundles through the drifts.

Dressed thickly, the brown balaclava only reveals the man's eyes. Furs draped over his shoulders, the eyes flit around rapidly. Finally they train onto the woman speaking to him. They grow wide for a moment, then flick down to the elephant then to the path ahead. For a moment the eyes look very confused. As if not sure where he is. His body half twists to view the village in the distance. The thickly dressed man turns back to face the woman again.

He doesn't respond verbally. Only dipping his head in acknowledgment to her words. Leaning forward on the head of the elephant, his arm stretches out to the side. His eyes flick over to his hand, where he finds a spear. Looking up and down the weapon he then looks to the path ahead of them. Cold eyes catch the woman standing in the snowbanks, where his eyes narrow slightly.

Bearing down on the massive beast's hide, the man balances back on this heels. A single finger extends for his compatriots benefit towards the auburn haired woman.

The heavy trodden footprints left by the beast ha been nearly silent aside from the quiet crunch of the snow. Which is why the auburn-haired woman takes so long to react. Her body twists away from the water and her perch on the embankment back towards the duo on the elephant— her hazel eyes narrowing into tight slits. Strangers are not to be trusted. Despite her silent skepticism, particularly at anyone being out in the cold without proper dress, her curiosity, and that irrepressible urge for any risk, draws her silent steps towards them like a haphazard little red riding hood— too naive, too stupid, or too curious to think twice.

A gust of wind cuts through the air, pushing her hood downwards. Again, her eyes narrow at the pair before flitting towards the village. If she's panicking she does it in absolute silence, refusing to give into any base fear of strangers that haunts her system. Her lips press together, but shortly curl upwards into a smile. "What are you doing here?" Unlike her countrymen, Samara trusts easier than she probably should, evidenced by the smile chiseled into her pale skin. "No one should be out this late." Her eyebrows furrow a little, but her smile remains. "I'm not even allowed to be out this late… the mountain passage is scary." her gaze flits back towards the village as the smile fades slightly, "If someone sees you— "

But the night has lasted much longer than anyone could have anticipated. Late now, late earlier, late later, the moon never sets, the sun never rises, and there are never any stars in the sky. When the less dressed of the strangers slides off the pachyderm to land soundlessly in the snow, she raises a hand. "If someone sees me I'll tell them I was sent by the king," the redhead replies haughtily.

She glances up to the form still in the saddle and gives him a rather expectant stare. "Hurry up then, we don't have much time… You wanted to see the village, didn't you?" Maybe, the young woman doesn't know what he really wants or why he wanted to torture himself with the cold. Giving the auburn haired woman a glance out of the corner of her eye, she offers only the slightest of smiles. "We're looking for directions through the mountains, can you help us?"

Sliding fluidly down the side of the beast, the man lands thickly. As the woman moves through the snow nimbly, the man pushes towards the auburn haired woman as if he had the same size on him with the giant beast behind him. Plowing through the banks, the spear thrusts itself into the ground. Holding to the spear, the eyes obscured by the balaclava peer intensely at the auburn haired woman. Glancing to his companion, his head bobs down silently.

The spear swings out from its position twirling easily in the hands of the thick warrior wielding it. His eyes retain their position on the woman, brows knitting deeply as if glaring. Though the man says nothing as of yet.

"Sent by the king or not, not everyone— " Samara begins, not haughty like her counterpart, more matter-of-fact, but is silenced by the man twirling the spear. While she may have an edge, the silent threat does its job to occupy her thoughts. "If I scream, they'll come running," she insists, certain in her claim as her hands rise out of her cloak. She's not unarmed, as evidenced by the sheen of metal at the belt of her dress, but she's not reaching for her weapon either, evidencing that naivety lost by most others in her little village. "They won't ask questions. And in these parts the vouch of the King means little to them. The King has forgotten we exist, and most of them don't care to remember the world outside. Especially when— " her words are interrupted by echoed howling bouncing between the peaks. While before she managed some semblance of calm, her face pales considerably at the sound.

She swallows hard as she takes a near-silent step backwards in the snow, only to trip on her own cloak. "You need to get out of here— "

Glancing over her shoulder to the elephant, she gives the beast two sharp whistles. The trained creature kneels down on its front legs and uses its trunk to help the barely clothed woman back onto its back. There, she settles into the saddle and arranges the furs around her in such a way that she's in a nest. "If you don't help me, I'll just keep wandering, that's alright." Delia hasn't recognized the auburn haired woman yet, thanks to the heavy winter clothing she has on.

Narrowing her eyes as the mountain woman trips over herself, she catches a glimpse of her face and frowns deeply. "I know you… I know you from somewhere. What is this place?"

The glare from beneath the leather and furs flicks from one woman to the other. His compatriot now deserving the full burden of his stare. His look intensifies at her comment on wandering. The thick man takes a step away from Samara, delivering a brief apologetic look to her. His spear is held firmly in both hands as he looks after his traveling companion.

"You need to stop wandering." Comes the raspy voice from behind the balaclava. "Why can't you just stay put." He says, irritation clear in his voice. The spear gestures back to the elephant. "Get back on so I can take you home. Again."

Most people would get out of the snow immediately, but Samara takes several moments before she, like a fawn just learning to walk, ambles back to her feet. "I didn't say I wouldn't help," she counters as she brushes the snow from her cloak, reddening her hands underneath the bite of the cold. "In fact you'll need it if you're going to get through the mountain pass. Especially this time of night. Besides, I like helping. I don't think I get to do it much." The howling echoes again, causing Samara to draw her hood up again, silently retreating beneath her cloak of fur.

The brief recognition earns Delia a smile accompanied with a nod, there's a certain familiarity in the redhead, "Samara. I'm Samara." She actually grins at her own name. "And this," she gestures dramatically to the village, "is the home of the forgotten. Being forgotten makes people disappear." She steps back towards the elephant, her courage returning. "Honestly, if I yelled, they wouldn't have come. When you are so removed from everything for so long, it can be hard to care at all." Her lips turn up into a dimpled grin, "I'm not really like them anymore."

Peering down from her perch in the saddle the spearman gets a frown first before the introduction gives her cause to double take. "I — this… I — You!!" Reaching into her pack, she pulls out a broken sword and points it down at the forgotten woman. "This is all because of you! Where did you take me? What is this place?!" Recognition is instant and the world around them whirls into something completely different. The mountains, the snow, the elephant, the scenery spins around into a blur that turns to black and grey. No more colors, not anymore.

"Where is my body?!" Alighting down onto one foot as though she was just hovering before, Delia turns an accusatory glare at Samara. "I showed you… I gave you colors again! And you stole me!!"

"Calm down." The agitated voice comes from the balaclava. Flicking his attention to Samara, the spearman half turns to stand in front of Samara as if guarding her. "Stop." The man brings up one hand to pull his balaclava back off his head. Revealing his features, Brian gives Delia a deep frown. "I took you back, but you ran away. If you could calm down and stop following strangers everywhere, I could get you back to your body."

Taking another step, his back is close to Samara. "It's not her fault." It kind of is. But Brian has decided to be protective right now. "So can you just listen to me, and stop dancing off like a little girl?" The lecture sounds much like what a parent would have to say to a child who has already been punished but still won't behave.

Immediately, the Sam's hands are thrust into the air, her weapon at her belt again ignored. "I didn't… I wouldn't! I couldn't!" Samara insists as her mind grows cloudy from the rush of varied black and white around them. The dizzying effect of being pushed back into her own reality, greyed in comparison. "I would never steal anyone or anything or…" Her eyebrows knit tightly together, "…or ANYthing. Ever. Please, please believe me."

When the balaclava comes off, a distinct pang of recognition strikes her. She blinks hard as her eyes scan that familiar face. "Brian?" the name is said as a question. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't run away, I was uhm.. I don't know… Summoned, I guess that's the best word for it." Delia's grouchy demeanor stays firm, punctuated by the crossing of her arms over her chest. She glowers between the two dreamers before circling a flat palm in the air. It almost seems as though she's miming cleaning a window, which is exactly what she's doing. In it, Sami's body seems to be somewhat translucent and drifting in the air. "I'm going to follow you for a little bit… Sorry Bee-one, once we get out of range you're going to be sucked back."

She focuses on him for a while, even thinking about what she's doing causes her to lose grip just a little, making him fade. "I'm not on the Island, my body, I mean… Pulling me back there isn't going to help if my body isn't there." Her eyes close for the matter of a moment and the redhead takes a long breath. "Get me to where my body is," she says in a much calmer tone, "I can find you… you're like a spotlight. I'm just too tired to wait there… Who knows how long it'll take?"

Looking over his shoulder, "I fell asleep." Brian explains quietly to Samara, though he gives her a little smile. Trying to communicate more than just the smile will give as this is the first time they have actually been able to 'speak' to each other. Looking back to Delia, he frowns deeply."I'll find your body and take you to it. Just.. Come to me quick, okay? Your throwing off my sleep cycle." The spear is thrust into the snowy ground.

Looking down at himself while he fades, he sighs. "Give me one night!" He calls out to Delia, before turning around to face Samara. Eyes locking on hers, his mouth opens and then closes. Not totally sure what to say just yet.

While none of this makes any sense to the auburn-haired woman, the eye contact has its effect, drawing a twitch of a smile. She blushes slightly as she follows his actions, like a mirror— her mouth opening and closing. She'd always imagined she'd have so much to say to him if she could and now that she can, nothing is coming. And now he's fading, disappearing from this world.

Her eyebrows knit together with all of those things she's wanted to say, unable to utter them, even though she physically can. Knots form in her stomach as she issues him a very sheepish, nearly apologetic smile. She shifts her weight to her tip toes, balancing on them while she leans forward to softly brush her lips against his fading ones.

The display of affection has Delia turning her head to give them a little bit of privacy as short as it is. Without looking at the pair, she gives a small sigh and rubs her forehead, slowly her dress turns from its tattered and bloid stained appearance repairing itself as though her memories are reforming.

"Find my sister, Lucille," she instructs, "I'll go to my brother… I can find him, he — he's like you, a spotlight. Tell Lucille to keep him asleep and take him to wherever my body is. When I'm close, I'll know and I can go back." Then she looks over her shoulder at the two and frowns as Brian fades a little. "Sorry, I can't hold onto you longer. You're slipping."

His hands are splayed out in front of him. Watching his fingers slowly fading from existence his eyes return to Samara's. At her apologetic smile, he lets out a slight exhalation of a laugh. To break the awkward silence. Watching her, his brows escalate when she leans forward. His eyelids dip down as her lips brush against his own. Delia's instructions may be received, but perhaps not. Because when Samara pulls back from her kiss, Brian is gone.

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