it's out of my hands; straia, any - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Live (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=17) +--- Forum: The Chamber (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +--- Thread: it's out of my hands; straia, any (/showthread.php?tid=2891) |
it's out of my hands; straia, any - Tarnished - 08-13-2015 We were young and wild and free, fightin' in a love we couldn't leave. Tarnished knows better than to walk into a hornets’ nest. Or rather, in this case, the nest of a magical Raven Queen and her devoted flock. So he waits, he bides his time, he stalks the borders and feels them out and remembers—though the memories aren’t his, though he wishes they would go away—all of the kingdom’s dirtiest little secrets. The brother and sister that loved one another too much. The Slave Pens. The Valley War. The Chamber, and how She, too, had made it burn long before the volcano after She lost Her beloved father. Silly dragons and their temper tantrums. Tarnished runs his tongue along his fangs, the ravens gliding above him perfectly reflected in his golden eyes; he wonders how they taste, if his cousin would notice if just one of them came up missing—just one little bird. But then he thinks better of it. She would probably take offense, knowing his family, and there’s plenty of food back in the Meadow. Meaty little rabbits and stringy little fawns. He isn’t picky. From wolf to lion, from lion to horse, the shape-shifter flits between forms to ease his own boredom. It’d been years since Frostweaver was murdered, years since she’d lain eyes on the infant Straia and cried over her sister with her other niece, Araby. Straia probably didn’t even remember. Tarnished certainly wouldn’t, if his mother had not ingrained their faces into the forefront of his mind; he knew Tatter and Frostreaver, he knew Araby, he knew Straia and he even had a vague idea of what his grandfather, Set, might look like. Not that it does him any good if none of them bother to show up. Yawning, the horse becomes an ape and climbs the pine tree nearest to him to nap at the Chamber’s border. Might as well, if the voices in the distance were any indication. He cannot make out clearly what it is they’re saying, but he would bet his life that they’ve all gathered together for a kingdom meeting. tarnished vanquish x nocturnal Even on the way down, even on the way down. [Hi, my name is Venge and I can't write starter posts. ^__^] RE: it's out of my hands; straia, any - Straia - 08-14-2015 There were no dragons in the Chamber anymore. Beqanna had kicked them out, for a time. Sure, certain Chamber members could turn into dragons, though neither of them were prone to doing so. It seems, at least for now, the age of dragons had come to an end in Beqanna, in the Chamber. The Ravens ruled here now, and they were far less obvious that the dragons that came before. No one suspects the little black birds of anything. At least, not on first glance. But where dragons are force and fire, the ravens are clever and deceptive. Straia did not rule by burning (though she could set the world on fire with her ravens), or by freezing (she could do that, too). Straia ruled the way the ravens lived. straia the raven queen of the chamber RE: it's out of my hands; straia, any - Tarnished - 08-14-2015 We were young and wild and free, fightin' in a love we couldn't leave. Something lands in front of me, which isn’t surprising—there’s an absurd amount of ravens occupying the kingdom and I have gotten used to them quickly. What is surprising, however, is that this particular bird speaks; intrigued, I crack an eye open and carefully study the feathered creature before nodding to let it know I have heard its’ announcement. Satisfied, the raven takes off and I take to moving back down to the ground; gorillas weren’t exactly meant to meet Queens and I, being the ‘gentleman’ that I am, return to the body my Mother made me. Straia is in no hurry and I don’t fault her for that. This is her home, her domain. I’m an unimportant visitor, probably bothersome—Queens tend to have more important things to do than come to greet strangers at the doorstep. That’s what her subjects are for. Nevertheless, she makes her way through the pine forest and towards me and I cannot help grinning. She doesn’t recognize me—or, rather, recognize who I look like. I’m the spitting image of her late Aunt, scars and all, and as much as I hate my Mother I had half-hoped there would be at least a spark of recognition. There isn’t. “Hmm, nothing really. I just thought I’d come pay you a visit,” I shrug, watching the birds that are flying around above us—but I’m also watching her, I know better than to take my eyes off of someone that could be dangerous. And Straia, well, you didn’t become Queen of the Chamber and have control of a bunch of ravens without being at least a little dangerous. “I don’t suppose family comes to visit you often?” I wonder, because Mother’s never came to visit us. Tatter coupling with Fey hadn’t been a very popular choice back then. Grudges ran deep. So I can’t imagine Mother’s family looking favorably upon me, my siblings or my cousins; we would forever be dirt, mud in the blood. Unclean. A blemish on the bloodline. Although, looking at Straia, I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell her that. I smile. “Anyways, I am your cousin on your mother’s side. Tarnished is my name, or Nish, if you prefer. I’ve really only come to see the Chamber, I require nothing of you—though I mean that in the least insulting way possible. My mother—err, your Aunt, was very fond of the Chamber. She… thought very highly of it.” Not that I could give a fuck less what Mother thought of anything, I’m only curious. I want to see it through my own eyes rather than dream about it every night. It looks nothing like I—She, She remembers. It’s been burnt to a crisp at least once or twice, but it is growing back; I know the burns are too fresh to be from when She burnt it down, and inside I chuckle, because I wonder how many times it’s caught fire since then. My family’s always had a thing for burning and I find it rather amusing that the place where it all began seems prone to doing the same. tarnished vanquish x nocturnal Even on the way down, even on the way down. RE: it's out of my hands; straia, any - Straia - 08-17-2015 Straia had only met Noctural once. The mare, if Straia remembers correctly, had been half dragon at the time. Or least, had been acting like one, and Straia remembers dragon. Either way, that is the imagine in her head. She had been a child then. What, a year old? Maybe not even that. She doesn’t remember much, truthfully. Most of it she thinks she’s dreamed up in the years that have passed, some story concocted in her head to fill in all the blanks her father purposefully left. straia the raven queen of the chamber |