R.E.D without the R

[Deleted]

dama de atigrado
"you may call me iliana, for that is who I am."

    Winter settled over the ground in a thin blanket of fresh, crisp snow and frosted, biting air. Her lungs stung with each breath she took, her body throbbing from exhaustion and the numbing cold. Still the graying, faded, black-brindled mare pushed herself onwards. Her hip groaned and ached with every moment, every movement a knife of agony shooting through her body. Every hoof fall a resounding echo of the trauma that had once befallen her and her leg all those years ago.

    She had given up every notion that she'd ever recover fully from it and accepted the pain as the blessing it was. As long as she hurt she was still alive. As long as she was alive she could soldier on and continue doing what she did best - which was usually beating things up though here lately her outlets for her energy and keeping-in-shape had been trees and hills rather than living creatures she didn't let that keep her from trying to keep up her form, though.

    Only a fool would let themselves go. The voice reverberated in her head as she moved, weaving deftly between tall, spindly trees. Snow and layers of autumn leaves sprayed behind her as she bent and twisted her body around first one, and then a second tree in a serpentine pattern, beating out half a pace between each duck and weave and fold of her body. Her muscles groaned as she taxed them, her body stretching and back arching for a moment. CR-A-CK! The sound of her hooves solidly hitting the trunk of one of the trees as she passed it sounded around her in a blast of sound that broke the dense silence like a bull-whip.

    Only a fool would forget to bend, to twist, and to stretch as much as they kick and rear. It only takes one bad move, one pulled muscle, to end everything. Her fathers lessons rang in her head. Memories of good times. Memories of her spars with siblings much larger than her, stronger, meaner. Memories of the bulls and bears from which she had collected her scars. They all meandered through her thoughts as she moved. Her mane whipped behind her, swaying with the rocking movement of her canter, smooth despite the growing ache in her hip and the need to limp. Her tail whipped and wrapped, swaying through the trees and floating in the breeze of her passing.

    And still Iliana kept moving. Until her body was coated in a dangerous layer of sweat that darkened her still black patches to true-black and her graying coat to near-black beneath the tabby-like brindling and flea-bites. Until her legs began to feel leaden and wobble with the exertion she continued to canter. Now, now you may rest. Now you have worked out properly. Warmed up, stretched- all that is left is the cool down. She twitched her ears, listening around her and raising her head high into the air as she slowed in a spray of snow and dirt and leaves. Foam flew from her withers and shoulders into the air and steam puffed out in heavy, short snorts where her hot breath hit the cold air.

    Cool down. That's what she needed to do. Before the winter bite could sicken and further weaken her. She glanced around with bright, vivid green eyes from a speckled mask of white, her mane split two ways in white and graying-black draped alternately over her neck and face. No one else was around. Not for miles, she suspected, though it would be foolish to assume she was utterly alone. Even a wood pecker was out hammering away in the forest out of sight overhead. There were song birds too stupid to travel to warmer weather for the winter and even a winter-white hare crouched beneath a white-dusted bush to stare at her. She curled her scarred lips at the rabbit and it darted into hiding. 

        Yes, Winter had come to these lands- these new and strange lands she now stepped lightly in with her neck arched proudly and her legs moving in a quick two-stepping paso corto. It had come and it would be the end of her if she did not keep herself warm. Her hip screamed at her, hitching her stride with an odd limp that, had she been ridden, would have utterly destroyed the fluid, smooth seat she should have produced. As it were she could be considered 'permanently lame' in that leg though she forced it to work anyway. Some times it was just harder to work- like in rain or on particularly cold days. It was days and nights like that which drove her into a frenzy for movement. Getting tied up with tense, aching muscles and limping forever was not something she wanted to do. She'd been a warrior, dammit! Maybe not in true battles but she had sparred her fair share and she had the scars to prove it. She'd be damned if she let a little thing like her hip stop her! Oh no!

    "Where am I?" her voice broke the silence of the world around her, startling crows into flight nearby. She watched the block-tailed, black birds soar away from her in a frenzy before snorting at them and turning her ears back. "Silly birds." thick with an accent that couldn't quite be placed but bordered somewhere on the exotic train - hispanic maybe? Once upon a time, certainly - her words almost slurred together as she panted for breath. Slowly, slowly she cooled down and dried off as she walked, examining the world around her. The lands looked too tame to be unclaimed- someone called this place home. Even if it was just a single someone- it was someone.

General SigmaButt σ || post - thoughts - "speech"

[General SigmaButt σ]

we are

^THE Μ Ξ Τ Λ

and we will be coming for you

very soon...

| Sigma | Theta | Omega | Eta/Iota | Gamma | Delta | Beta |

Absolute silence was something utterly foreign to the large blanketed brute. There wasn't a whisper carried by the wind, no creatures scurrying across the frostbitten ground. The Arena was completely void of life other than The Meta, yet he still was not allowed to relish in the silence. The voices simply wouldn't let him have a moment to himself. Even as he counted his paces in an attempt to measure the length of time he had been cantering, they chattered away. The frigid air burned his nares as he took a slow, deep inhale. In the beginning, he had been frustrated with the constant noise and distractions. Meta was always a quiet individual. To have several voices, none his own, taking up space in his head not only hurt immensely, but irritated him beyond belief. As time wore on, however, he found himself being slowly  stripped away. Little by little, he was beginning to lose himself to their desires. It was how he got the enormous scar on his visage. It was their will. Their hunger for the Pater, the Alpha, was so intense, he, too, found himself wholly consumed by the need for the First. It was not just a want, an urge, but a desperate, undying urgency to obtain the Alpha. He had to get it. There was absolutely no other option. If The Meta had to decimate every living creature and kill the last shred of himself to get the Alpha, then he would. No length was too far for Him.

Blazing oculars focused heavily on the horizon. His muscles, conditioned from years of intense training and exercise, stretched with each extended motion. It was one of the few feelings Meta truly enjoyed; the sensation of stretching out warmed muscles after a vigorous routine. Today had not been a particularly strenuous session. He did not like doing anything particular hard on such frigid days as it left a wider window open for him to grow ill. So, today he had worked on his cardio and kept the pace moderate as to not work up a heavy sweat. Personally. The Meta preferred the tough exercises, but he knew the importance of alternating as well. The Director would be rolling in his grave if he found out Meta was not keeping up his health; not that The Meta cared about his former superior's opinion. In fact, he was pretty damned glad the bastard was dead. Well, he would be if he could muster up the emotions to care one way or the other about the now deceased bronc. As it may be, he didn't care. The fragments did the caring and emotions for him. 

He was on his sixth lap around the Arena when a faint 'CRACK' in the distance broke him out of his reverie. His pace did not falter at the sound, but his attention shifted to the general point of origin. 'There are few possible sources for the sound in the immediate vicinity. That, coupled with the direction in which it came from points to the borders of the land. Accounting for the pitch and distance, I would make an assumption that the source of the sound is something hard hitting a tree, as a boulder would not reach the pitch for the mass and density is greater, with respectable force.' Meta's eyes narrowed minutely as he looked toward the borders of Reach. One way or the other, someone was in his territory. Truthfully, that didn't bother him. He didn't care one bit who crossed into the lands so long as they did not assume they could start trouble. Still, he figured he should see who exactly it is making such an obvious racket and why. 

The Meta saw no reason to rush his pace. If someone was intending on terrorizing or exploring the lands, they would be there when he got there. If they weren't, well, then that's just one less individual he had to talk to and he was quite fine with that. Inferno opts drifted across the terrain, searching for foreign movement. A figure grew clearer the closer he drew. He made no attempt at hiding his heavy steps. The Meta never did like sneaking about. He was a large, stalwart male, so attempting to skulk about wasn't something he was designed for. The figure was rather small in comparison; a good four odd hands smaller. Closer still and he determined it was a female. She was mottled with markings, and upon closer inspection, scars. That was something he could understand. Had he been the type to care for physical appearances, he'd admit she was quite attractive. However, since the Alpha took precedent above all else, he could no longer bring himself to desire anyone or be wooed by looks. His own bod was a testament to that fact. Ivory locks were ragged and short, his whip looked to have suffered the same treatment, and the large, self-made scar on his visage was just another sign. The Meta despised having long dreads, so, he would go to any means to shorten them, no matter the pain.

"Where am I?"  The Meta noted her accent absentmindedly. 'It appears to be South American in tenor.' Delta noted in his usual dry and clinical tones. None of the others, nor Meta himself, were remotely interested in that fact. However, being the Logic fragment, Delta felt it prudent to take notes on such details. "Silly birds." Omega was seething at the female, just as he did to everyone. He demanded her blood and Meta could feel the desire in his bones. Beta, as always, wrangled control over the embodiment of Rage, keeping him from taking control and attacking the mare. 'She is obviously lame. Kill her. Do it. DO IT! She is on your lands. She is weak, unworthy. You know you want to, Meta. KILL HER!' The Meta could feel the fragment thrashing in unbridled hatred and ire. Beta grunted in an effort to keep the increasingly volatile voice under control. 'Just hurry the fuck up and get this meeting over with, asshole. I'm not holding him all day!' Her voice was just as dry and harsh as always. Meta had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he paused his stride, now just a few yards away. He deemed it a respectable enough distance. The bronc never did like being near others. He took in her appearance quickly, more in a manner befitting foes on a battlefield than two strangers meeting for the first time. A sheen of perspiration left her coat darker than he assumed it was. He vaguely wondered what she had been doing to work herself up so much.

"You're in Reach." His voice was almost impossibly deep and nearly more a growl than words. If close enough, his vocals were felt more than heard. His expression was flat and he had no outright signs of anger or even curiosity. Overall, he seemed entirely empty, despite the struggle for control going on in his head. "What do you want?" He never was one to dance around a topic. The male had no interest in formalities or titles. Just reasons and facts. Again, impressively rough vocals hinted at nothing other than almost obligatory interest. He sized her up openly, already making plans of attack in case the vix had thoughts of violence on her mind. He was no fool. Despite the obvious size difference, he was not going to just assume he'd win in a fight, even with her ailment. She got her scars from somewhere, just as he did, and he'd be a fool to forget that.

[Deleted]

dama de atigrado
"you may call me iliana, for that is who I am."

    The over-bearing presence of another weighing down on her with the prickly sensation of eyes focusing on her body brought Iliana's head up into the air to look around for the source. She was surprised to find the stranger that approached her now was unaffected by the marks on her body that marred her. Her scarred lips distorted in a faint smile, ears twitching back and forth to listen for any speech.

    The Reach? She turned an ear back as she contemplated his lyrics- a deep vibration of sound that she suspected was at home more as a baritone than a tenor. Her nostrils flared and she watched him, curious by the prepared stance he took and feeling her body slip subconsciously into a mirror pose. There was no reason to let hostility take over but she wasn't going to stand there and not be held correctly for balance.

    What did she want? And where was this 'Reach'? The name of a herd land, perhaps? "Reach... I have heard not of it before." switching her tail for a moment, enjoying the frosty cold as it rushed through her lungs with each smooth breath she twitched her muscles in her shoulder, enjoying the strong ripple of her skin in the after-effect of the twitch. "I want a home; it is what I have been looking for.... well what I seek." she hesitated for a moment before deciding it would be a time saver to simply explain, in crisp basics, what she needed.

    "I am not shy of working for my place, though as you can see my condition would hinder... much of what I could do. I am a trained warrior and experienced in combat if that is of any use. Logic... well logic and strategy I can do if I must but otherwise it is best I avoid them. Perhaps this Reach has room for one more?" she paused, tilting her head and examining the taller stallion at his respectful distance from her. "If not then I do understand. Often the world has no use for those who live with their injuries still." a faint, knowing smile crossed her lips but did not reach her green eyes which remained emotionless.

    "Have you a need for a ready and willing warrior? If not I shall move along." there had to be someplace, somewhere, willing to take her in, to accept her limitations and accept that she could work beyond them anyway.

General SigmaButt σ || post - thoughts - "speech"

[General SigmaButt σ]

we are

^THE Μ Ξ Τ Λ

and we will be coming for you

very soon...

| Sigma | Theta | Omega | Eta/Iota | Gamma | Delta | Beta |

<sup>Meta watched the vix shift her stance to a more defensive stance in response to his own borderline offensive position with approval. She wasn't foolishly trusting. That was always a plus. It was also good that she did not take his gesticulations as a sign of attack. That would have shown her likely to jump the gun; something he wasn't particularly fond of but had been guilty of in his earlier days. That much, he would not deny. 

She seemed to think his question over a moment. Meta didn't bother with rushing her. After all, it wasn't like there were any dire issues for him to tend to. Harks shifted to attention automatically as she began speaking. Blazing oculars held fast on hers, showing his attentiveness to the conversation at hand. "Reach... I have heard not of it before." He merely gave a low grunt in response. They were relatively new lands. It would be more surprising if she did know about them.</sup>

^{The voices chattered away in his head, not invested in the exchange taking place. Only Beta, Sigma, and Delta remained at attention. He could understand Sigma, as that tricky little bastard was always looking for ways to get closer to their goal. Delta was also understandable as he was always interested in logging social interactions and helping in any way possible. Beta is the one that surprised him as she never seemed interested in his conversations unless they directly concerned her, a job, or Him. She gave a low huff in his mind. 'I'm just making sure you don't fuck up this situation in case you can gain something from it.' Meta just internally sighed.}

^{His attention was brought back to the nameless siren as she spoke once more. . "I want a home; it is what I have been looking for.... well what I seek." There was a pause, an obvious hesitation on her part, and he just waited silently for her to continue. He never did find the need for excessive banter on his part. "I am not shy of working for my place, though as you can see my condition would hinder... much of what I could do. I am a trained warrior and experienced in combat if that is of any use. Logic... well logic and strategy I can do if I must but otherwise it is best I avoid them. Perhaps this Reach has room for one more?"}

^{Meta listened intently to her words. She held many admirable qualities that he was looking for in members. That mixture of traits were not often found together in one being. The bronc had met his fair share of petulant, idiotic, and weak beings who claimed to be the best around. Those meetings usually ended with those individuals being forcefed their own words. He watched her head tilt and examine him. His demeanor did not falter under the scrutiny, just as hers had not faltered under his eye. "If not then I do understand. Often the world has no use for those who live with their injuries still." A smile graced her features that did not quite reach her verdant opts. His scarred visage did not change expressions. Her words were true. Many did not find use for a crippled member. They were usually left to the wolves. Quietly, he was rolling the words around his head when she spoke once more. "Have you a need for a ready and willing warrior? If not I shall move along."} 

^{There was a lapse in conversation as he silently contemplated her question. Beta seemed to be scrutinizing the mare with a critical eye, picking out pros and cons of accepting the vixen in to his lands. He gave a low, rumbling hum as he contemplated. There was nothing wrong with her, injury aside, that he could detect. She seemed willing and ready to work for her spot and seemed trained well enough to keep up. "Reach is my home. The Syndicate is my band. We are guardians, mercenaries, and assassins. Others can hire our services. Being that we run a sort of...business, it's paramount we remain as ready and able to fulfill our contracts as possible. Your injury is an obvious disability, even if you are capable of still using it." His eyes focused in on her impaired hind leg. Harsh words, but he was not one to soften his thoughts for anyone. Hellish oculars fixed on hers once more before he continued speaking. "Still, you may fit in. You're dedicated enough to work past your ailment and keep in shape. You also seem to be disciplined enough to trust with a contract. Don't see why you can't be at least given a shot."}

^{Rough vocals came to a close. His expression was hard as granite. Meta wasn't one for games, made quite obvious by the look in his duo hued visionaries. Short ivory whip snapped in an almost involuntary, absent-minded action and a light shiver rippled down his spine as a chill wind blasted past the two equine. "The Meta." He stated his name with little warning. True, he could have said that it was his name as there was more than one occasion in which he confused another simply by stating 'The Meta'. Still, he did not. Whenever he attempted to say 'I am The Meta' the voices would grow rather indignant and attempt to assume control to correct his statement by saying 'We are The Meta' and explaining the fragments inhabiting his head was not something he felt particularly inclinded on doing at the given moment. "Questions?"}

[Deleted]

dama de atigrado
"you may call me iliana, for that is who I am."

    With her words quite run throught Iliana was content to stand in silence while he pondered and decided upon his response to her. Well, not quite content. Standing around didn't sit well with her, she preferred to keep moving to keep from freezing up. Especially when the cold came sweeping in and stiffened up her hip.

        How long would he keep her standing in the silence he was dragging out, though? She twitched an ear, hopeful that he'd say something sooner rather than later so she could move. She dared not shift her weight, not yet. She'd taken a stance that had been comfortable moments before and had been one she'd kept for years when resting. Why should she move now? 

        Syndicate? She blinked bright green eyes at him, curious about the name but more intrigued by the words he imparted to her. Guards, mercenaries and assassins? For hire? Something she could actually do? Her lips curled in a faint smile when he mentioned her injury. As thought it was something she hadn't known herself, but she simply inclined her head rather than argue with him.

        "I appreciate the chance to prove myself." she dipped her head lower in quiet respect to him, seizing the opportunity to shit her weight back, moving her hip and easing the stress on it. "Iliana. It's a pleasure to meet you, The Meta." 

        Questions? Oh, certainly. She had plenty of questions. Many things that needed answering, sorting out, understanding but where to begin? When you aren't the most mouthy mare in the world it was hard to figure out what to say. She hesitated a moment, seeming to be lost in thought before opening her mouth to speak to him again.

        "How exactly do your contracts work out, here?" she finally asked, deciding to seize one of the more obvious of need-to-knows. She was fairly certain she could figure out what the three options meant, or how they worked, but the contracts? She'd only ever been used to entertain or hunt- she'd never been actually hired for anything before.

General SigmaButt σ || post - thoughts - "speech"

[General SigmaButt σ]

we are

^THE Μ Ξ Τ Λ

and we will be coming for you

very soon...

| Sigma | Theta | Omega | Eta/Iota | Gamma | Delta | Beta |

Duo tinted oculars studied the femme. A faint grin twisted her velvets in response to his words. "I appreciate the chance to prove myself." He gave a low, ambiguous grunt in response, not feeling the words needed a wordy response. He never did enjoy talking much, especially all at once. Already he spoke more in one go to her than he did to most anyone here since his arrival. It was just something he disliked. For now, he could be thankful that he hasn't run into anyone who insisted on speaking to him, aside from Witchcrypt, but she did seem to be an anomaly when it involved him and that frustrated him. 'No' simply didn't work.

He watched her give a small, respectful bow and shift her stance. "Iliana. It's a pleasure to meet you, The Meta." A low, gritty hum emanated from his throat. "We'll see about that." If there's one thing that could be said about The Meta, it is that he doesn't soften his words. He had yet to pass proper judgement on the vixen and he let it be known by that simple statement. A cool breeze rolled through the terrain, biting at his blanketed pelt. His flesh rippled at the sting of the cold.

There was a moment of silence, something he didn't mind in the least bit. Then, her voice broke in to the air. "How exactly do your contracts work out, here?" His eyes momentarily left the her to glance back to the path toward the caverns. It would certainly be warmer there than standing out here without any coverage. "Contracts are simple." His oculars flicked back to catch hers once more as he spoke. "Others come here for help. They can ask for a certain member or even just a member of a division for help with a job. You take a contract, you make the terms with the client. You decide what jobs you want to take, what your payment is, and if you want to cancel. I watch to make sure it's not something that can backfire on The Syndicate. Simple as that."

Being that he was never one for long exchanges or even long sentences, The Meta was known for vague, and often times bad explanations. "You do your job, the client pays you. They don't pay, you can go after them. They pay and you don't do your job, they can come after you. You're honor bound to your contract." When the next cool breeze bit his hide, he gave a low grunt. Harks flicked back for a moment in a sign of his distaste for the cold weather. "We can speak as we walk." His words left little room for argument as he motioned toward the path that led to the underground passages. What better way to get a tour than from the owner of the lands?


@fishtail