Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: The Deserts (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=19) +----- Thread: Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) (/showthread.php?tid=8099) |
Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) - Volcan - 04-21-2016 Volcan Burn slow, burning up the back wall Long roads, where the city meets the sky Best to take things slowly - to add kindling to the spark before true lumber. With the sun beaming mercilessly down on the gangly yearling, she decides it will be now or never. Slivered eyes scanning the horizons, she wonders whether anyone will even hear her callings. To hell with it, She says softly, relishing how she can curse in her head whenever she wants. A true rebel, this one is. And anyhow, I’m close enough to the oasis; it’s just over there. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Volcan lets loose a high-pitched whinny, inviting her unknown brothers and sisters to come and play ‘house’ with her, as it were. In the silence that follows her summons, Volcan shifts her weight uncomfortably; how exactly she is going to go about this delicately is a mystery. One she will have to figure out right quick. This is not the end, this is just the world Such a foolish thing, such an honest girl lava texture © Mavrosh-Stock
RE: Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) - Kratos - 04-23-2016 Kratos the electric titan of vanquish and lyric RE: Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) - Volcan - 04-25-2016 Volcan Burn slow, burning up the back wall Long roads, where the city meets the sky The day of revelation looms closer with every wane and wax of the moon; but for now, this reality is all she knows. He stands like Vanquish, and she knows him to be one of his immediately. His scent reminds her of her adoptive father, though in a strange way that she doesn’t particularly enjoy or trust; the bespeckled man smells of lightning and snow, rebellion and chaos. Her nostrils flare to study the scent more closely, but her train of thought is interrupted as the man greets her. Ears tilting back just so, Volcan lifts her chin, scrutinizing the Percheron stallion with slivered eyes. He could lift one hoof and end her existence here and now should she become unwary. The sight of them must be laughable; a spindly girl barely managing 14 hands standing off against a monster of a stallion towering well around 18 hands who must be twice her weight. She isn't laughing, though. “I am Volcan,” she replies coolly, from between ecru lips. Although the two are simply greeting each other, the filly feels almost that this first impression is one she can not lose to the titan before her; this interaction held weight. “And what is your name, boy?” This is not the end, this is just the world Such a foolish thing, such an honest girl lava texture © Mavrosh-Stock
RE: Burn slow, burning up the back walls; Kitra/Akbar/Qatar/Etro/Gaza (any of em <3) - Qatar - 05-16-2016 i like the ones who say they listen to the punk rock i like the the kids who fight against how they were brought up They all have a bit of a legacy these days, don’t they? Even those who aren’t born to parents whose names are written in the stars. Whether or not they bring honor to that legacy and increase it sevenfold, or let it fall into obscurity is completely up to them. Despite whatever circumstances surround their birth, they have their own agency to ride the current all the way to the end, or to swim upstream, fighting all the way. There is no right way, because if you’re raised like a salmon and live like a salmon, you’re going to swim upstream like the rest of the, even if you’re a trout. So who makes the fish? Nature or nurture? If sand is as comforting as your mother’s womb, what’s the point in running around like a howler monkey? Monkeys don’t like sand. Sand doesn’t like monkeys. And so Alek and Q are very wise in this regard, and really, their philosophy should be written down and passed on to whatever younger siblings are to come. Eliora, perhaps, or you know, whatever kids they can properly influence. They two of them are having a grand ol’ time, laughing and horsing around by themselves when they hear Volcan’s call. Q’s ears swing towards her voice, casting a quizzical expression towards Alek. Whatcha think? “I don’t know, she’s kind of weird.” And not like, actually our sister. “Yours, you mean. Last time I checked, I was still a cat.” Ass. Just for that, let’s go. “You know I could just stay here, and you’d be shit out of luck.” You know Ima would skin you aliiiiiive if you did that. Alek growls, but says no more, and the pair head from a smaller oasis to the large one. The sun is setting, and it casts a deep red glow over the dunes, turning the caracal a burnt red color, and setting their shadows to giant-size. Qatar is large enough, but not as large at Kratos and Kreios are, tempered by Yael’s petite size instead of amplified by Lyric’s. He is glad to see his elder brother there, and offers an enthusiastic greeting to the two of them. Alek is less than pleased, however, remembering the mischief and sting of the spotted stallion’s sparks. He grumbles while they’re still out of earshot, “You didn’t tell me your brother would be here…” Had Qatar the ability to speak, he would have deepened his voice to the tremorous rumble that Vanquish and Kratos possess, making fun of the imposing stallion in the way that only brothers can. Alek, however, cannot walk the walk that he talks, and would never dream of teasing Kratos to his face. Not after the last ill-timed remark. Instead, the cat holds his tongue and as the pair approach and offer a mild-mannered greeting, curiosity figuratively killing him. “Volcan? Nice to meet you. This is Qatar, and I’m Alek. The big guy is Kratos.” He jerks his head politely towards the stallion that towers over all of them. “What’s going on?” Qatar the little mute prince. i have no idea what this is, except that it is full of ramblings and puns... |