But I’ll Grind Against Your Bones Until Our Marrows Mix Who: Eris & Phobos What: Deities say good-bye When: Here and not here? Where: Dreamland. Warnings: None.
Discordia was one given to pouting, and she did it well. Her face could contort into a variety of rather frightening and unbecoming expressions, and at the moment she was very inclined to do just that. Toeing at a body on the expansive battlefield before her, she felt incredibly unlike herself -- there was no desire to dance and move about the field as she was usually wont to do. Her skirt moved subtly in a low breeze, the grimy cloth clinging to the girlish curves that she had to offer. One step propelled her forward, onto the corpse, until she was alight it on the chest. Her feet fell into a line, the left foot behind the right but still toe to heel. The man beneath her gave no complaint.
“I know you’re there,” she called out to the figure coming up behind her; regardless of the fact that he’d been moving silently, she’d known for some time that he was there. He, his brother, and his father were always there, but he most of all was her dearest companion. And now he was leaving. Or at least, his other self was leaving, taking him far, far away.
She disliked losing her playmates, especially if she had nothing to do with the misplacement. It was so difficult to hang on to them, anyway; and he was getting to go play with real war, none the less! Eris said nothing more, instead balancing on one foot while the other hesitantly moved forward to poke at his chin with her big toe. No, now she’d allow him the silent treatment, to really tell him about her annoyance.
Phobos made a small laugh as he drew closer to Eris. His pointed teeth catching the low light of the field as he smiled and advanced upon the smaller woman. “You grow so small when you are pouting,” he commented as he came up behind her, slipping a blood covered finger down her spine as he leaned over her shoulder; Eris gave the subtlest of shivers, restraining herself from doing anymore lest she show him favor. “You should be happy that I am going to experience true war and you know very well that I would bring you with me if I could.”
He pulled away, taking one long step back before crossing his arms over his naked chest. “But these mortals and their rules. They’re all so stubborn. My mortal doesn’t even let me come out to play. Your mortal is even worse.”
“I know,” she whined. “She doesn’t even think I’m real. I told her once, even if it was a dream, but that doesn’t make it not true. These mortals don’t even believe in their dreams any longer!” Hopping off of the body, she moved away from Phobos, her discontent clear. Her steps were light, barely touching the ground, but touch they did, leaving soft footprints that were easily blown away by the wind. Even the sight of so many dead around her did nothing to gentle the blow of his departure, though for all the world she would love to act as though it mattered little to her.
“It’s not fair,” she finally complained, throwing a glance over her shoulder toward her playmate, the force of her fury the size of a pinprick for all of her height, which, in her tantrum, shrunk her to barely four feet tall.
“You’ll have your chance to play,” Phobos comforted Eris as he trailed after her. She was tiny and he was still his lengthy height. Catching up to her was effortless as he bent to retrieve her hand, grasping it in his and pulling her, forcing her to turn to him. “I’ll find a way for you to come out and play. I promise. I’ll try.”
He looked down at her small figure with his fire-filled eyes, blood dripping from his chin from the battle that had ceased. “Once you can take over your mortals mind you and I can truly dance through battlefields that we can create.”
She allowed him to grasp her hand, but did nothing in response; anger filled her heart, as it always did, and this was no different than any other hour of her existence, but that didn’t make the hurt any less. There were many more of their kind that were far more terrible than her, and yet she was the most loathsome -- finding companionship was a trial.
“Truly?” The voice was childish, soft and harsh at the same time, and yet far less mean than her previous words. It was one thing to be trapped in these dreamscapes: to be free to wrought terror and strife as was her duty upon the mortal plane once more was a wish unfulfilled for some time. The idea of sending men to fight against one another again, to have them draw blood and cut each other down, made her immortal heart palpitate. “I do miss the twirling...”
Eris lifted Phobos’ hand above her head, using it as a placeholder while she performed a pirouette, her skirts swirling around her in the movement.
Phobos grinned and spun her around before tugging her along the battlefield. “Come along, my Lady, grow taller so that we may play together. I’m not sure we will be able to find one another once my mortal has gone away and I do want to enjoy our time together.” He made a low growl and spun her on her feet once more. “While I’m gone, you should keep giving your mortal dreams. Talk to her about my mortal. Talk to her about the both of us. My mortal knows who I am...he knows who you are as well but he’s been so foolishly shy. He hasn’t told your mortal anything!”
She followed behind him willingly, eager to be soothed and attended to. Eris was always so demanding of attention, anyone’s attention, as long as someone was paying attention. Slowly she was beginning to feel like herself again, and her height reflected that fact - before long her form grew to just between five and six feet, slightly taller than her mortal form, but certainly still more grotesque. Her feet picked themselves up, moving over the bodies and pitfalls of the battlefield with little effort.
“Of course I will try, it’s not as though I have much else to do. It’s so boring here, without you or any of the others,” she complained, her voice gaining more confidence.
Phobos allowed her to use his hand for balance as she pranced along. She was always so happy on a bloody battlefield. “It’s better than being stuck in the mind of the damn mortals. I’d rather spend my time here with you,” Phobos growled. “Although my mortal is slowly becoming more confident, it’s much better than he was before. He was such a pain and so boring with his fear. Maybe our mortals will recall this? They seem to remember their dreams.”
He pulled Eris towards him, catching her with his other hand and giving her a fanged smile as his hands gripped her wrists, squeezing them tightly, enough to leave bruises. Her mouth mimicked his in the expression, hands going to his shoulders as he lifted her, effortlessly. Arms spread, leaving the support of his flesh, giving him the control entirely as they spun, starting a mock-dance in the middle of the fight.
Her feet were pointed, one leg straight and the other one bent behind her as she leaned back. Phobos lifted her higher as she leaned backwards, her long dark hair with its bits of blood and gore dripping from the skirts of her dress but otherwise it flowed in ripples as they spun.
Lowering her to the ground where Eris placed her feet gently, Phobos bent to bite at her lips and leave a blood covered kiss. “I’ll miss you, my Lady. I’ll return to you though. Work on that stubborn girl while I’m away and when I return we’ll find a way for you to gain control.” Eris remained with her head thrown back, hair cascading toward the ground, a wide grin slitting her face in two. Her hands slid down his shoulders, then climbed up his neck to twine in his hair.
“It won’t be soon enough, Piercer. Never soon enough,” she crooned back at him, before pulling away again to prance off over the field. Timor followed after, mouth lolling open to show off his wicked looking teeth, his pace slower but strides long enough to eat up the ground quickly even so. Before she danced too far, though, Eris turned, holding out a hand that Phobos gained without needing to exert himself. Spinning her, the two continued their morbid steps until morning light brought the dream to an end.