we_bring_hell | (no subject)

(no subject)

Nothing is wrong. Well, nothing new is wrong. It's just that sometimes you wake up and hate everything, starting with yourself and extending outward from there.

She has snarled at Gideon, banished Gideon to the distant past, and is now sulking about being abandoned by Gideon. She was trying to work on the Lyctoral theorems, but her bile got in the way, and now she's chewing on her interdimensional communication mechanism.

She is considering burning characters into her living bones while her cavalier is away and without a healer standing by, because she may be 90% of Gideon's self-control but Gideon is 70% of her self-preservation.

The Mountain Goats is blaring; Transcendental Youth.

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"Mm," she says. She takes the meat dubiously, which only concentrates its drakish attention on her. "Does it have a name?"

The mouth is more like a beak than a herbivore's mouth, and might be properly termed a maw. It steps deliberately closer and snaps a bit of the meat, incisors flashing. Seen from outside, with the proper sense of humor, it might be funny; two skittish, gruesome creatures approaching either with mirror images of skepticism.

Seen from Ingress' eyes, it's more like two unique and fascinating beings getting to meet in a most wondrous way. But Ingress is, as always, rather biased.

"Sedulus," she replies. She crosses her arms, watching with a huge smile, ready to step in if either of the two need her.

"The attendant said it could take a quick flight if it wanted. Sedulus likes flying, don't you, sweetheart?" Yes, Ingress is cooing at a thestral. Luna Lovegood would be proud.

It scarfs down the meat, eating fastidiously (sedulously, even) around her fingers. This motherfuck does not, apparently, have a hunger only thumbs can satisfy.

"I would be please to see it fly," Harrow says, risking a graze of its muzzle with her gloved hand.

"Sedulus," Ingress says, patting the thestral's flank once more, "if you want to fly a bit, you can. Come back, and we'll feed you more treats."

The thestral pauses, whickers a raspy wheeze, and then it walks towards the other end of the paddock. Its magnificent wings unfurl to their full span, and with a huge flap that stirs up clouds of dust, it steps forward and lifts off, soaring into the sky.

"So pretty. I love their wings."

"'Pretty' is not the word I would use," Harrow murmurs. "But I agree that its aesthetic is quite pleasing. It is a magnificent beast."

Ingress snickers very quietly to herself. That sounds much more like Harrow.

"I think they will bear people as riders. I'm not sure I'm remembering that correctly, but they seem gentle and friendly enough."

Harrow watches it glide through the sky. "It seems an indignity to a noble creature."

"Perhaps. Something larger carrying something smaller and lighter from place to place doesn't necessarily make for an indignant situation. I could carry you from place to place and keep my nobility."

She's being ridiculous, of course, but she would carry Harrow around if Harrow needed it.

"I don't believe I would find it terribly dignified," she murmurs. "But I suppose if the beast were unwilling it has more than sufficient means to make that known."

Between the teeth and the option to, you know, drop people from a great height.

"Exactly. Nothing that can be ridden will allow you to stay on if it doesn't want you there."

The thestral does one more loop in the sky above their heads before it begins its descent.

"It is not something I have experience with." The thestral touches down soundless, and immediately plods closer to investigate Harrow for additional meat.

"A fearsome, terrible creature thou art," Harrow mutters to it, and scratches its jaw.

The thestral whinnies softly and bumps its head into her touch. It snuffles and nudges, hoping for another snack.

"I think you've made another friend."

She smiles thinly as it snaffles another piece of dried meat from her hand. "While the food lasts, at least."

Ingress nods. "That's the only thing that keeps me around."

Silently, Harrow holds out the bundle of dried meat in Ingress's direction; the thestral follows indignantly.

Ingress tosses her head back and laughs. "No, no, please, I'd hate to deprive this dear creature."

Harrow allows a small smile to crack her facade, and returns to feeding the thestral.

One small smile is a victory Ingress had only hoped for. She knows that the problems and worries facing her friend have gone nowhere and still must be dealt with. She knows she can only provide so much aid and support. But at least she knows that for this moment today, she’s brought Harrow a brief respite.

When the thestral finishes devouring the last bits of meat, it snuffles its way to a corner of the paddock where it can stand in the quiet and enjoy the fresh air.

“I believe our audience is over,” Ingress says.

Harrow nods. "I respect a creature that treasures its solitude," she says solemnly. "May I return to mine?"

“No, I shall now hold you captive and force you to play ridiculous games that you hate and have some fun, damn it all,” Ingress says, her expression serious. Then her face lights up with her usual smile.

“Of course, friend. I’ll walk you back, if it’s all right with you.”

Harrow bows her head in acquiescence and rises. "I hope you do not judge me an utter ingrate," she says. "I appreciate your attentions."

“I don’t judge you at all, Harrow. I’m glad I was able to provide a little distraction.”

Harrow turns and begins to stalk back toward the bar. But she goes slow enough for Ingress to catch up.

Ingress catches up to her in a few strides, and they remain in a companionable silence on the walk back to the bar.

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