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 Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 9:50 am
WARNING - This RP will shift from first person to third person in accordance with each entry's setting.
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Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 9:51 am
[...CINNAMON WHIRL...]
A choice?
I wasn’t given one.
They had given due consideration to my service in the military and as a consequence, had selected a role that fit best. I was to be a bodyguard and the contract would renew itself until such times as the individual had located a suitable replacement, or so I had been told. They had come to me at dusk, called me to council and as the moon crept into view above the slopes my fate was sealed.
Suffice to say I had been told a great many things, but the truth only came out when I came face to face with my charge. I recognised her face, her name and knew just as well as any other within the herd that she was exceptionally well guarded. The words came from her own lips, but only once she was certain that none other than I could hear her speak. To this day I still recall them vividly, the soft lilt of her voice as it escaped her lips. She’d had a rather peculiar accent, a quirk that I did not completely understand at the time.
“You are aware this is an intervention?” she had said, her brow lifting. At first, I hadn’t completely understood her and while she should not have caught on, I can only surmise that something in my expression gave this confusion away. At this point she had released a small sigh, her lips parting and her brow lowering. “Surely you are not completely oblivious to the views your herd mates have in relation to your person?” She had continued.
It should be noted that I have always been a stallion that prides himself on being unreadable. I would not claim that I am stoic, I do possess the ability to express emotion, but I choose not to. Instead, I have often found that masking one’s initial expression with a false one is much more beneficial. Consequently, her ability to read me so soundly was not well received...
In short, it had never been done before.
She had the competitive advantage that none had since my instructor.
I had at this time refrained from replying as my mind continued to mull over her initial revelation. My superiors had taken advantage of my nature, had used my military training against me and trapped me so beautifully. No doubt this was at the request of my parents and perhaps you, dear readers, are entitled to an explanation as to the reasoning behind this bizarre state of affairs. After all, for an individual to follow a story, they must be provided with an introduction, middle and then a conclusion.
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cinnamon, or Cinn for short, and I have served in the military since I came of age. One might say that I sound fairly ordinary until they are made aware of one small ‘quirk’ – you see, dear readers, I am decidedly unwell and since returning from my last tour I have been diagnosed with a trauma. No, I do not claim to understand the ins and outs of what ails me but the herd doctors seem aware of its properties and I suppose that small comfort can be drawn from that.
My family had tried for many years to deal with this illness themselves; however, even the most loving of individuals can become exhausted. At a loss as to how to cope with my questionable nature, they turned their attention to more unusual methods. It was during one particular encounter that the fates granted them the aid they sought and this intervention was staged. A gamble, but they had limited options.
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Posted: Wed Jan 19, 2011 2:43 am
[...ASHURA...]
The issue first came to light two months after he had returned from his recent tour. This was the moment in which I was made aware of his existence, and like the vast majority of those in the herd, my introduction was unpleasant. I had yet to meet him face to face, to make a judgement for myself and as a consequence the only information I had to base my views upon were from those who had been unfortunate enough to encounter him. From what I can gather, the issue was initially hidden from the public eye, dealt with solely by family – but I know all too well that these problems have a way of finding a way out.
For those who didn’t know of this particular stallion, the initial perceptions regarded him as cruel, unapproachable and violent. At the time, my brother had made swift judgement that he would be dealt with in accordance with his actions, yet even he knew nothing of the truth. The stallion’s family had kept his secret hidden, determined to assist him rather than to involve others and embarrass him. Unfortunately, their knowledge was limited and it became quickly apparent that they were out of their depth. It was upon this realisation that they gave a formal request of help to the herd doctors. These doctors offered up a variety of cures, mostly drug induced, but I am of the assumption that he was not receptive to these methods.
At a loss, it appeared this family were doomed to accept that their son was afflicted by an illness that had no cure. They would have to adapt, adjust to the problematic behaviour of this particular soquili and apologise on his behalf to whomever he offended. It was something that no family should ever have to endure...
One would have assumed that the fates had chosen his path for him from this point forward, but I have long since been aware that they operate in a unique manner. A year after he returned home, I had the opportunity to meet him – or rather, I had the opportunity to observe him and it was in this moment that I was struck with a realisation. When left to his own devices, away from the company of others, he was not quite as ‘cruel’ as the rumours had claimed. Perhaps I would not have known this had I not been privy to a rare moment, a brief instance in time where he demonstrated consideration and kindness. Admittedly it was to no warm blooded creature, but how often have you witnessed an individual treat plants with kindness?
...Precisely.
The consideration and thoughtfulness that he had provided to these particular plants came as a great surprise. However, this revelation was enough to stir me from my mental slumber and a year overdue, my mind began to question the observations others had made. I came to the conclusion that his family had hidden his ailment for a reason, perhaps in the hope that they could nurture this more ‘shy’ aspect of his persona and banish the more shadows that darkened his doorstep. Of course they had failed in this, as I have discussed previously, but now I had to question why – the quirks were still there, so had their methods been wrong?
After I had visited my student I took it upon myself to visit one of the doctors that had offered assistance ten months ago. Her name was Farsiris and after a lengthy discussion it became apparent that my initial assumptions were correct; he had not been receptive to herbal remedies. I went on to discuss further treatments with her and after an hour or so, I was aware that these doctors had provided many different options. Suffice to say the stallion in question was a difficult patient, but, in our conversation she had alluded to one doctor who had made some sort of breakthrough.
Further investigation was required.
I will not bore you with the rest of my detective work; let us just say that I had a breakthrough of my own.
The cogs of my mind turned and my thoughts were particularly vocal in the coming weeks. However, rather than leap into anything unprepared, I planned carefully and only approached the family when I had a firm set of ideas. This in part, requires a small amount of explanation so I will endeavour to explain it as easily as is possible.
My name is Ashura and in recent years the herd I have become a part of has undergone a number of changes. The structure has shifted and in accordance with that, the territory requires multiple overseers. Upon these plans being finalised, I was elected to become an Alpha of a particular location. I accepted the position but at the time, no protector had come forward to take up this particular seat of power. I am without a mate and consequently, I was not graced with an automatic protector.
The role of protector requires a very particular sort of male; they must be disciplined and capable of defending not just themselves, but all those within their jurisdiction. These positions (at least in my herd) are taken by trained combatants and here, you can perhaps see where my thoughts lay. I needed a protector, so why not him?
It was a gamble of course, but I had a theory. When left without direction and without control, it appeared that this male was liable to panic and lash out. He did not respond well in the company of others, simply because he had nothing to discuss with them. Well, it could have been more complex than that but I am no doctor and can only hazard a guess. My theory was simple enough; if I were to provide him with direction, duty and purpose...then perhaps he would have a more constructive way of dealing with other creatures and as a result, would become more approachable.
Understandably the family had been at a loss for some time and as I posed my idea to them, they took a small break to consider and soon returned. They had accepted my proposal and the wheels were soon set into motion.
...It would be inaccurate to claim that I was well received by this particular stallion.
However, my gamble had paid off and rather than storm off the stallion had been true to his duty. He had been assigned his post and he would not leave it until he was required to; he may not have been happy at how it had come about, but he didn’t spurn it either.
It was a start at the very least, though I had no idea how well it would progress...
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Posted: Tue Mar 29, 2011 3:07 am
[...TEAM WORK...]
...step one - establish a territory...
After council had been held and the families had agreed to most of the measures that had been brought to the table; the territory that had once made up “Islagiatt” was sliced up into specific locations. Each was set out in a manner to cater to each family whether it was through historical purposes, spiritual or simply preference. It had been during this meeting of the families that Ashura had held her peace. At the time, she hadn’t made the decision to branch out beyond the protective embrace of her brother and his line and as a consequence she held no recognised territory. Granted there were locations free but up until this point she had made no claim to them. However, now that she had been elected and had her protector in place it was only fitting to take her position in society and embrace the land that also came with it.
Of course, life was never so simple upon the Summit and given that she had placed herself in a particularly awkward position, she had made things difficult for herself. She’d always had her gaze set on a particular location, but Cinnamon had been particularly hostile towards her choice. It had been the first time she had experienced the more difficult aspect of his personality. Rather than discuss it, he had placed a blanket ban on her preference and even when she had pushed for an explanation he hadn’t co-operated. Thus, the mare was left with a predicament – she was an alpha of nothing and her ‘protector’ seemed to have no intention of changing that.
Unfortunately for Cinnamon, Ashura had lived with ‘difficult’ men all her life; if her brother and his offspring weren’t difficult then the definition provided needed to be rewritten. Consequently she was not a mare that gave up at the most minor of hurdles and taking all her past experiences into consideration, this was a minor hurdle. He may have resisted her pushes for the last week and a half but the mare would not be dissuaded. She would select her territory with or without him and he would accept that. If he didn’t like her choice then it was his own damned fault for providing little to no insight into his preferences! Her resolve would not be shaken and it was this mood that she woke up with as the sun’s rays tickled at her eyelids.
She’d risen, washed and fed.
Now her jaw was set, her shoulders squared and it was with her head held high that she walked straight passed her protector. She barely even graced him with a look, moving away from her methods of persuasion in previous days. Electing to be independent was a promise she had made to herself when she had put herself forward for this role, she wasn’t going to let a grumpy sod hold her back. She’d already done that more than enough when she was a filly, she wasn’t getting younger and her brother had pressed for her freedom – she would take that and use it properly.
Wall flower no longer, it appeared her methods had worked. The stallion was jolted from his reverie by the revelation that his charge had wandered off without so much as a word. Perhaps he had taken her usual communications for granted and it was with a bemused raise of his brow that he observed the mare’s backside disappear from view. So she had really left him, completely disregarding the fact that he was meant to accompany her - she really was an idiot. As rare as the possibility might be, there was a chance that a predator might pursue her when it became apparent she was without protection. In part she deserved this, she should have known her place and kept to it, she wasn’t meant to leave his presence or at least that was his understanding of his role in this farce.
Heaving a sigh, the striped male had no other choice than to gather his wits and pursue her. With a feline-esque stretch, his spine emitted a series of ‘musical’ cracks and released what tension had built up during the night. He afforded a frown at just how loud the crunches had been though, he was clearly losing his shape if there was that much tension. It was something to mull over when he was not chasing after a rebellious female. His facial features turning into an expression of mild exasperation he quickly set off in the direction of the mare. He could be thankful for small favours, the mare never made any secret of where she was going. Her trail was perfectly visible; her tracks well pressed into the soil as she sprang forward with her usual lop. Most might have argued that she was a very graceful creature but the fabled ‘protector’ failed to see how anything could be graceful when it left such heavy foot prints. The day the mare learnt to tread as lightly as a Kirin was the day he would describe her as ‘graceful’.
Ashura wasn’t that far ahead of him and as he pressed himself into a trot, he caught sight of her bobbing head no more than a few hundred yards away. Satisfied that only a small burst of speed would be required, he quickened his pace and quickly closed the gap between himself and the wayward mare.
“What part of ‘stay close’ do you not understand?” he drawled, slowing to match her pace. As if to provoke him further she refrained from commenting and continued on her way with her gaze fixed on the horizon. It didn’t take very long for his teeth to start grinding – he was not a stallion who excelled at patience. “I am TALKING to you,” he deliberately thrust himself into her path, forcing a halt and it was only then that her eyes seemed to focus on him... or at least, they focused on him for about a second before looking through him. If the stallion could have grinded his teeth any harder he would have; they would have been dust by now. As ridiculous as it might have seemed to any normal soquili, he found this to be incredibly irritating.
“You were talking at me,” Ashura corrected smoothly, continuing to look beyond him to the trees that lined a location of particular interest to her. “When you talk to me, I’ll be more responsive,” she added and pursed her lips. “Now if you would excuse me –“ she paused and eyed him critically, “And you will excuse me... I have some land to peruse and would quite like to do it before I visit my students.” He was stumped; speechless for at least a few seconds and this bought her enough time to slip passed him. Of course she would have been a fool to assume that this would be the end of the discussion and she began to count down slowly under her breath.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Do you make a habit of breaching your station!” he snapped and she fought hard to hide a smile, like her brother he was so predictable. Perhaps it was a universal thing for those who lacked patience; they all seemed to work on a similar fuse.
“I know my station just fine,” she replied and kept walking with the stallion trailing behind her. “It is you who doesn’t know what my station is and what yours entails,” she remarked coolly. Flicking her forelock away from her eyes, she lapsed in to silence and gave him at least a few seconds to splutter before anticipating any further responses. In fairness, she knew well enough that Cinnamon had little experience with the hierarchy in a herd. He had been raised outside of it by his parents and when he had joined the ‘military’ it had been different. Very different, from what she had gathered when conversing with his family.
Evidently, Cinnamon elected to drop that topic.
Apparently they were going to have the same argument they’d had a week ago again – joy of joys, it was just going to result in the same conclusion. He would hiss, spit, rant and rave while never giving a genuine explanation and she would agree to disagree and walk off.
“Then explain to me why you insist on exploring territory I have already refused to police – I have told you, it is not suitable,” he continued, frustration lining his tone.
“Yes, you did tell me,” Ashura agreed but made no move to cow to his frustration. “However you never explained why and frankly I see nothing wrong with it. It’s beautiful, has plenty of resources –“
“In spring,” he interjected and it was with some measure of satisfaction that he watched her grind to a halt and slowly turn around to stare at him. What he hadn’t anticipated was the level of interest that she seemed to be regarding him with. “What?” he snapped stiffly.
“My my, was that a partial explanation?” she said incredulously.
“When I say no, there is always a reason, I do not do it to be a pain in the a**,” he growled uncomfortably. She lifted a brow and they both fell silent, regarding each other for a short while. It was a rare moment indeed, but it seemed the mare didn’t really want to interrupt it. “Did you just consider the cosmetics and place it over all practicality or are you just dense?” he broke the silence at last. Alas, the moment was lost and the mare mourned its passing, for a brief second she thought she’d made some progress.
Unfortunately she had no immediate reply to that, as a part of her had always taken advantage of the fact that her brother had chosen the location of his home well. She’d never really looked at why he had chosen it and had failed to miss the key qualities that it possessed. For example, the grove was well defended, kept nearly everything hidden from view and had all the necessary shelter and supplies that one could use in every season. She had failed to look for these things in her own choice of territory and if she was perfectly honest, this was one thing she didn’t really excel at. It was difficult to discern what a location could or couldn’t produce in different seasons, nor could she spot the immediate hazards when she wasn’t familiar with that location.
Ah, he had her there.
“I guess I’m just that dense,” she replied coolly and shook her head. “But in fairness, you have provided none of your expertise so I can’t possibly make an informed decision,” she continued. It was a bit of a stretch but an accurate one no less and she heaved a soft sigh. “However, whether you like it or not as an alpha I need a home of my own and can’t live under the constant vigilance of my own brother – “ she paused briefly. “So unless you intend to provide me with any insight you’re just going to have to accept that it may not be an ideal location but everyone learns through trial and error.”
“Fine.”
“What?” She croaked.
“Fine,” Cinnamon repeated.
“I don’t know what that means,” Ashura pointed out.
“Very well, I accept, your explanation is valid, okay –“ Cinnamon drawled, his brow lifting.
“Well I knew that much,” she snapped back and shook her head. “In what context though, fine, you accept that I am going to wander round until I find somewhere I like or ‘fine’ as in you are prepared to give insight so that I don’t make another dense decision, as you put it so kindly?” She enquired and both took another moment to observe each other.
Ashura simply needed clarification but Cinnamon needed to decide which way he wanted her to take it – all things considered, the first might be more work than if he just provided her with the feedback. In the long term providing feedback might be better for his sanity, lest he deal with more featherbrained antics when she discovered something wasn’t as good as she needed it to be. Taking all of that into consideration, the stallion concluded that it was for the best that he took the bull by the horns and dictated which location she picked.
...Or tried to at least.
He had a sneaking suspicion she was going to want fifty different things with very few of said ‘things’ coinciding what was deemed practical...and other soquili wondered why he hated being social, especially with females. They were all so indecisive!
“Fine, in the sense that I will provide you with suitable insight,” he responded at last, snorting just a touch as her ears pricked and a smile crept onto her lips.
“Score!” Ashura declared triumphantly and promptly set off at a brisk trot, she had no desire to squander this opportunity while it lasted.
He had no idea what that was meant to mean.
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Posted: Tue Mar 29, 2011 5:20 am
[...TEAM WORK...]
...step two - find a common ground...
Three weeks, two days and five hours.
That was how long it had taken Cinnamon to persuade the indecisive female that this location was the best one for her. Even then, she had needed a second opinion and had consulted one of her companions. If that wasn’t a way to add insult to injury, Cinnamon wasn’t really sure what was! Nevertheless, she had finally come round to his point of view and had promptly moved into her new territory. What had come next wasn’t something he had anticipated – rather than leaving him alone following his assistance, she had decided that this meant she could acquire his expertise at any time. She’d even gone so far as to inform him that as protector it was in part, one of his duties! Unable to dispute this (for now), he could do nothing more than adhere to her requests and provide her with the details she required.
As a consequence he had spent the last seven hours of his time trailing after the mare as she pointed out various plants both in and out of season. It was from here that she then picked his brain – were they poisonous, were they not. Were they of nutritional value or was it a complete waste of time to seek them out? If they were of nutritional value then when were they in season and how were they meant to be eaten – were they fruit based, leaf based or root based? If his head hadn’t been throbbing to begin with, it certainly was now, given the barrage of questions that came at him. That being said he took his ‘duties’ seriously and responded to each query in turn.
Yes – that plant was of use, but only in autumn.
No – you couldn’t eat that one unless you wanted hallucinations. Good for religious fervour, but not much else.
It may have been an educational experience for the mare but by the time it came to a close the unfortunate stallion was more than a little desperate to retreat to the privacy of his own thoughts and the sanctuary he had recently scouted out for himself. After all, he didn’t need to be around her all the time; he just needed to be within earshot in case something happened, right?
Right.
Alas she had other plans – why did she always seem to have other plans? No sooner had he started to move off in the direction of his hideaway when she began to speak again. He visibly winced, though the mare would bear no witness to this as his back was turned. He swore that if she asked him one more ridiculous and relatively mundane question he was going to slap her senseless and desert – this ‘intervention’ that his family had called for could go to hell. He didn’t need this, he had simply been tricked into it by his superiors and had to be held accountable for the duties he was meant to do.
“You quite like plants, don’t you?”
“Sorry?”
“Plants, you like them – I’ve seen you with them.”
“What’s your point?” he murmured warily and glanced over his shoulder just a touch to regard the mare.
“Well I was thinking,” she trotted up to his side and nodded towards one of the groves. “I want to make it perfectly clear that this is our turf, so I was wondering if it was possible to cultivate some flowers or plants that would make that evident.”
“And you want me to do this...?” he hazarded a guess.
“If you don’t mind!” she replied merrily and flashed a smile.
He would have been a fool to have ever thought he had any choice in the matter.
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2011 2:43 am
[...TEAM WORK...]
...step three - the little quirks...
If there was one thing that the mare was well aware of, it was that Cinnamon did not receive compliments and praise well. He was an oddity in that respect, for one who gave off airs of strength and superiority, he was a modest creature deep down. It was a testament to his family lines and all those who came before him - admittedly she didn't know much about his family, but she knew enough. Whether he cared to admit it or not, he came from a very strong and loving line, it was merely bad luck and naivity that had caused him to deviate from the usual path. This revelation in itself gave a substantial confidence boost to the mare; deep down he did have something, she was simply going to have to dig that out and expose it.
It was definitely a challenge and it had been one that his parents had initially failed at. However, Ashura had never been a mare to back down in the face of adversary; at least, she hadn't been since the day her brother had demonstrated such strength. He had broken the chains that bound her and while it had taken her a few years to gather both her wits and her barings, she had rediscovered who and what she was... The result? One very stubborn mare, and in her books there were only a very rare set of cases when something couldn't be fixed; Cinnamon was not included on that list.
Ashura would never have been so bold as to claim that the stallion's work was some of the best she'd seen, but, as the weeks had passed by the effort he'd made was obvious. He really did have a way with plants and the results of his handiwork were something that she had now taken to admiring on a regular basis. It was in moments like this that she had the decency to look sheepish and concede that her determination to have one thing may not necessarily have been the right choice. After a discussion that had become very heated, Cinnamon had finally persuaded her to defer to his better judgement on the issue and she could safely say that she didn't regret it in the slightest.
He'd chosen white roses.
One of her favourites.
The cuttings were still young and it would be quite some time before they spiralled up into the trees in the way he envisioned, but she could already see his ideas springing to life. Give it a year and those roses would lift in to high archs over her head, carefully schooled and teased by Cinnamon's ministrations. There would be walkways with flowerbeds to admire, wooden sculptures and a variety of other little features that gave a hint of who lived here. Slowly but surely this little piece of land was transforming into a place she would be happy to call home. Whether Cinnamon cared to admit that it was nearly all down to him was beside the point. She couldn't really request anymore than she already had; she'd asked for a way to set apart her home from others and hadn't expected miracles. In return, Cinnamon had performed one and in doing so, had far exceeded her expectations.
It was days like these when she wished she could extend an invitation to her friends; she was fastly becoming proud of her new home and that proud little part of her wanted to show it off. Alas, as she was granted time to reflect on her current circumstances she had to accept that at this particular moment in time it would not have been a wise move. Cinnamon wouldn't be receptive to visitors and she had come too far in this short space of time to have it backfire. When she had made more progress and her little gardens were in place then she would invite her friends round for a meal - after all, why show them a work in progress when you could show them something in full bloom at a later date? Yes, as beautiful as her gardens were at present they would be far more beautiful when given time to mature - patience was a virtue as they said.
***************
Stubborn, proud, opinionated, overbearing and controlling.
On the other end of the spectrum, the stallion's views on the mare he was charged with protecting were considerably different. Where Ashura had regarded him in a positive light with great potential, Cinnamon could see the mare as nothing more than a meddling nuisance. She tested his patience daily and if she had not been bound to him by duty he probably would have caused considerable damage in disposing of her. Alas, neither his superior officers or her family were to be trifled with and while he was known for a furious temper he could also balance this out with some carefully placed survival instincts. He would be a lamb to the slaughter if he so much as lifted a hoof to this mare; he was a good warrior, but not that good.
Nevertheless, if he were to regard this entire situation with any sort of positive sentiment he would have to concede that the mare was giving him every opportunity to test his limits; or at least, she was giving him every opportunity to test the limits of his patience. He had come to realise that not a day went by when the mare didn't need to express her opinion or felt the need to get her own way. She liked to be in control and it took a great amount of pressure for her to give it up - that pressure generally came in the form of heated arguments and ultimately lasted for a good hour or two. Add a liberal splashing of pouting and just a touch of a hissy fit, then you would have what tended to be a very generic conversation between himself and Ashura. It would probably have made for fantastic viewings from the side lines.
That being said, the longer he was in her presence and the more frequently he was subjected to these rather heated discussions, the more tolerant he seemed to become. Over exposure had desensitised him and every now and again he could see a hint of humour depending on the topic of conversation. In addition to his increasing tolerance, he'd also noticed that he was beginning to learn how to twist her views towards his own. He had to be subtle of course, she was an intelligent little minx, but if he used the correct vocabulary and had a sensible and logical suggestion then she was more inclined to follow it than she had been when they had first met. It was a step in the right direction at least, the less time they spent arguing, the more time he could enjoy in solitude.
There was method to his madness - some stallions might have called him a genius for learning to adapt in such a manner, but he merely regarded it as a necessity to ensure his survival (and sanity). It wasn't about a game of power, he'd never been inclined towards such things, it was merely a desire to make things more barable than they previously had been and he certainly wasn't going to complain if it was working! Regardless, it was something to be said that he was adapting at all, if his family had been there they would have made this observation themselves...
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