[PRP] Return (Borr & Wrath)

[iloveyouDIE]

His return was an inevitability. To be what he was meant that he would always come back, whether decades or centuries passed, he would always return because he was one of the faithful and he heard the call, no matter how difficult.

Borr was a memorable face for some, though none were close enough to call out or wave when he'd come to the tower. Word must have drifted around though, of the large death horseman hauling curious looking barrels.

He was given a living space, generous and empty, and the soldier began the process of settling in. First was a long sleep. Then a drink.

And then arranging his space. His entryway was wide open, easy for anyone passing to snoop and find the hulking horseman pushing, rolling and stacking barrels.

The smell of leaked beer filled the room.

seussi

sorry just winging this im in that weird new character wtf do i do phase

 

[Seussi]

Wrath was, for once, in the death section of the tower rather than the famine part. As much fun as his experiences were with the nomadic, desert dwelling and often times decrepit famine clansmen, sometimes he just needed a day of recuperation, his body requiring a chance to cleanse itself off toxic substances. Of course, that didn't mean he was completly sober either, as the hulking ashen soldier could be seen stalking the pathways, a flask in hand and a frown that furrowed his brows as he nursed a wicked headache.

Still, what was in the flask itself, beyond that it was probably alcoholic, as a mystery, though it was mostly meant to take the edge off of the pain in his head and nothing more.

The area that he traversed in today was rather new to him, or perhaps he just didn't remember walking this particular path before. There were dwellings, many which appeared uninhibited, likely waiting the return of more horsemen who were either led astray, or had just yet to return home.

If that's what this could even be considered as. Still, he supposed it was better than nothing, but could it truley be home when he was still so alone?

Dangerous ponderings, and one that was washed away with another long swig from his flask, as charcoal smudged eyes drifted towards an open door, and the sounds escaping from within. Curious, he meandered nearer to the dwelling, peering in only a split second before the smell hit him and lurched his hungover belly, a fist going to his mouth as his face paled.

Normally, the smell of beer was welcome. Today, it was mostly just sickening, and he immediately regretted that the current contents of his stomach, a headache preferable to vomiting up what he had been drinking all morning.

He managed to fight back the nausea, however, his brow shining with sweat as he removed his hand from his mouth and slapped it instead against the door frame, eyes trained on the figure within who's back was currently facing him.

" 'Lo! I could not help but notice that you have a great many barrels in your possession!" He called out, a thought niggling at the back of his head.

And then, quite suddenly, eyes squinted into the dimness of the room from where he stood. "Borr?"

He'd heard the mans name tossed around that morning, and he'd finally put it together in his pain filled head.

IloveyouDIE

it's ok I'm still learning wrath lol

 

[iloveyouDIE]

"Yes!" He was busy currently, rolling one towards a stack in the corner of the room. Borr was a large man in all ways and the large barrels, while heavy, were still of a weight he could lift. He squatted, legs braced and set, and heaved the barrel up with a motion born of strength and momentum to set in it's place. "Kept busy while away..."

The horseman turned, large mitt hands wiping against one another roughly to shake off the stress of the lift. His thick brows lifted hearing his name, "Aye.. I'm Borr."

His face was aged and creased, both with worry and laugh lines, though his eyes were blue and sharp under thick grey brows. He recognized Wrath, at least his face, but he had been gone a long time and many names had drifted away or fallen to the wayside for newer information.

"Returning from the wastes.." Borr chuckled and ran a hand through his long beard before approaching. He'd yet to think much on their new home and what it really meant. His return was an attempt to also rise from melancholy but he'd yet to find such positive lift in any he'd seen here. "Pardon me, brother, but I can't quite place your name."

He held out a hand for a shake.

seussi

 

[Seussi]

It was with great effort that he straightened, forcing himself to stand on his own two feet without a door frame to support his muscular mass. He continued to squint, his eyes still needing time to adjust to the difference in light between the inside of that great, beer scented room and the bright outdoors. When the other stallion spoke, it was in a rumble that bared familiarity, and before the affirmation was given, Wrath knew that he had been correct in his guess.

"Borr!" He said the name happily this time, a large (yet somewhat strained) smile stretching across his face as he took a heavy step into the room, steel armored boots clinking against the wooden floor. His flask was tucked away, and he spread his arms open wide. "It is good to see you returned!"

When the hand was extended, Wrath took it without pause, the metal claws that encased his thumb and forefinger perhaps digging in slightly as he clasped the other stallions hand in his own. "Ah yes, my apologies. We were not close so I suppose you may not remember me. Rathsvith, or more commonly known as Wrath." He (re?)introduced himself with a deep chuckle.

iloveyouDIE

 

[iloveyouDIE]

The slightly enthusiastic greeting was returned and the men's large hands clapped togehter in a hearty shake which turned into Borr pulling Wrath into a one armed hug.

"Thank you my friend!" He rumbled to the slightly taller horseman before pulling apart. "I was a bit ah.. distracted with myself back then I suppose." They all had more to do, more people to be occupied with.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Wrath." He motioned to the room of wood and stone. A large table stretched the length of the room, the barrels stacked against one wall, scant corner shelves holding large empty flagons, and any bare bit of wall was covered in furs collected in his exile.

"Not yet settled in enough to request a true tavern space but it'll do." There was a single door in and a single door that led back to his more private quarters, but he'd clearly dedicated a good amount of his living space to this particular room.

seussi

 

[Seussi]

More laughter as Wrath easily succumbed to the hug, giving what he got in return with a hearty slap to the other mans back as well. It had been a great many years since he had last seen the other stallion, so many, in fact, that it was actually quite hard to recall just when that had been. However, Wrath had always been good at remembering faces and names, even those whom he had not been good friends with.

And, seemingly, being hungover hadn't impacted this only somewhat useful skill.

When he pulled away it was with a smile that had dimmed somewhat, and a nod of his head. "Ah yes, days that will be long missed. A distraction would prove much more useful to me now." Wrath had, after all, only learned of the isles demise much more recently, having been out in the human world on a mission, forgotten about, and when finally remembered, bid to come home.

Except home wasn't exactly where he had expected it to be.

He was still dealing with the grief of losing his father and siblings, a rawness that was as fresh now as it had been on the day of his return. A grief that showed often, whether in hollow eyed stares or fits of destruction filled rage. Drinking as often as he did likely didn't help, though he thought that it did, because it at least mellowed the pain.

"A tavern?" He perked up again at that. "We could use one of those around here. Best drink I can find is among the tents of famine, but it would be nice to enjoy a good, strong, death brew once more." A flash of teeth in a grin, and his gaze was going to the barrels.

"Do you need a hand with anything?"

iloveyouDIE

 

[iloveyouDIE]

"Famine?" Borr grimaced, "That's not alcohol, brother, that's poison." Or both, but it was said with humor. In fact Wrath had a distinct ascerbic smell, alcohol of some strange origin that hung on him heavily. It was hard to ignore this close.

"This room'll just have to do. Can fit a few folks I suppose." The table was long and wide, too heavy to be casually jostled, but also the only place to sit. There would be no private parties here. No couples nights.

"If you're offering." Borr gave him a hearty shoulder pat. "Just these last couple barrels for the stack." Three or four sat upright next to the neatly stacked wall.

"Come on. With the two of us it'll be short work. Catch me up on things?" The white haired stallion sidled up to a barrel and heaved it into place.

seussi

 

[Seussi]

"Ah, that it may be." He affirmed with a nod of his head, reaching up to stroke at his beard with the metal claws adorning his thumb and forefinger. "But it has done wonders for obliterating all thought from my head when needed." The admission was easy. He was not one to hide things, about himself, about how he felt about things, or even about how he coped.

He gave the room a second look over, a change in conversation welcome, though previous topics could be revisited if Borr wished. Reaching out with his hand, he slapped it down on top of the wooden table, leaning against it heavily. "A fair few, depending on their size." He grinned, quite aware that he and Borr were both of the larger sort, as were many other guardians and soldiers of death, it seemed.

"Of course, brother." He pushed himself away from the table. "What kind of neighbor would I be if I did not provide some assistance? Even late as I am." He moved towards the indicated barrels, bending and reaching down to wrap burly arms around one, grunting slightly as he lifted, his legs straightening beneath him, the muscles in his arms taut. For a moment, he pondered the question, and how best to answer.

"I only arrived a few months ago, to the piece of land that Halloween donated, the so called reserve of the lost clans." Not lost any longer, it seemed, as they had a new place to call their home.

"Since then, I suppose a great many things have changed. The High Priestess, Medea, seeking power and high station, took on Death himself...and won."

He wasn't sure if Borr had already heard of all of this, but if he hadn't, Wrath imagined the stallion would need a little time to let that news settle.

iloveyoudie

 

[iloveyouDIE]

His expression was stormy as they discussed the current state of affairs. Borr and Wrath easily stacked the barrels and once situated he leaned on them.

"I felt it." They all had, when Death was lost. But could Death truly be lost? Should they all not have suffered more if their master was truly dead? He did not like the idea of fealty to a power-hungry preistess but could hardly say that. The ideals of their clan didn't rely on power, they served a very particular purpose and they were eternal. They were an inevitability. With Life came Death.

"The call is what brought me back." He rubbed his exposed bicep and the aged tattoos that wound round his arms. In the center was one of their symbols. it had glowed red when he felt the call but now sat dormant, just another design. "Perhaps I should have returned to the reserve sooner... maybe it would mae this place feel like a triumph and less like.." A loss. He didn't finish the sentence but instead cleared his throat and straightened.

"It's rather hard to digest." Borr moved from the barrels. "You want a drink, brother?"

seussi