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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [TAKEOVER]  It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose.
    #1

    Ever since Picard had left the nest so to speak, the golden spotted colt had spent his days exploring the common lands of Beqanna in search of new friends and the tiniest bit of adventure. Today though was the first day he had decided to do something entirely different.

    He wakes in the early evening and silently flutters his large gold and white butterfly wings. within moments he rises from the rivers edge and he flies northwest. He flies first over Loess and then through Tephra. Then over the ocean waters. Lowering himself above the waves the young colt allows his hooves to graze against the waters surface. In that moment he knows true peace and he cherishes the sensation. Somewhere below him and underneath the water's surface Carl swims excitedly. Only glimpses of his small rounded body touched the surface.

    Before long land could be seen and the island growing closer forced the pair to pick up speed. "Carl, look! An island, Carl!" The young colt cheers excitedly and his wings flutter even faster. It only takes moments after that for Picard to find himself landing on the shores of black sand. With light steps the colt trots in a small circle before facing the water and watching Carl waddle his way onto land. Panting happily the pygmy hippopotamus makes his way across the sand, following Picard with little to no grace whatsoever.


    For days they explore the island together. With each rising of the sun comes a new discovery and today was no different. Early in the morning they had been woken by the rising sun and with it they set off searching for breakfast. Without realizing it, they managed to remain on the island for weeks and somehow it was quickly becoming a sort of home base for the pair. Though if Carl had the option he'd stay forever. It certainly had everything he needed even if Picard wanted more. Though this doesn't go unnoticed by Picard and on this particular morning he looks at Carl and sighs. "This is home for now, Carl," and with the declaration the shadows around them pulse as though they've understood and are passing the message through the island.

    With an excited leap of approval Carl waddles quickly through Picard's legs before crashing his body into the lake at the center of the island and with that Picard turns towards the palms. "Home," he whispers to himself while images of the bright red flowers of the pampas filter through his mind.




    Picard would kind of like to adopt this entire island for Carl, his dog.. I mean hippo. :|

    OUTSIDER ACTIVITY REQUIREMENT
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    Reply
    #2

    i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do
    ---------- i hope you dream of me



    He wakes near dawn, his head pillowed on what remains of a yellow nereid.

    Rising to his feet, the white haired stallion shakes his head, shedding sand and water from his navy hide. The shadows that had pooled around his body as he slept on his side sink now to write beneath him, moving as he does, twining through and around his legs like snakes - or tentacles.

    He considers searching again for Fenwe and Islay, but if they are on the island they are in its depths, well-hidden even from Gale’s prying Eyes. Wise of them, he thinks as he makes his way down the shoreline, kicking at the water to see if any of Ischia’s bioluminescent waters have drifted to Islandres during the night.

    The sound of laughter catches the brindle’s attention. Raising his head and narrowing his eyes he Sees - far in the distance and just within hearing range - two creatures moving. Could it be the chiefs, he wonders, has Fate stepped in again?

    But no, he finds when he draws nearer, it is just a little boy who is thinking vividly of the Pampas, the images in his mind as easy to pluck as the ripe fruit of a grapple tree.

    How very unfortunate for him.

    Though the Tephran waterfall has taken his battle scars, there is no mistaking the blue-eyed stallion for anything but a warrior. An Islandres warrior, even, for his body has become entirely black, matching that of the blue-eyed osprey who lands.

    “What are you doing on my island, little boy?” He asks, his voice sounding almost amused, though his cold expression and icy eyes are anything but. Maybe this is one of the Prince’s progeny, he thinks, though Gale senses nothing Fae about the boy. Maybe he’ll take the child’s golden head along with him when he visits the Pampas to fetch his daughter, a gift for the long-eared Prince.


    GALE



    @Picard
    Reply
    #3

    It can be said that Picard is truly ignorant to the darkness that the world of Beqanna held. For the last two years the isolation his mother had succeeding in creating around them kept him from learning about the risks and dangers he may face. So, when he stepped out into the world, the golden spotted butterfly had no idea what he was barreling towards in his search for adventure and discovery. If anything, he certainly had no idea he’d come face to face with the harsh realities of life so soon.

    It’s the sound of solid hoofbeats that draws his attention and snaps him away from the memories of the red blooms that danced across the landscape of his very first homeland. With a quick turn of his head a bright eye finds the approaching stranger and for a moment his heart flutters with excitement. That is until he notices the ominous strength of the other. The black stallion’s large muscular build and warrior like appearance has the breath catching in his throat.

    “What are you doing on my island, little boy?” His heart skips a beat. ”I…” He pauses then, his tongue tapping the roof of his mouth in thought. ”Honestly, I was flying around and I found it.” His voice is quiet, not yet strong with consistent confidence. ”I’ve been here a while though and I liked it enough to stay.” It’s mostly true, though he leaves out the fact that it’s also Carl’s happiness that keeps him tied here. He’d do anything for his companion in all truth.

    Slowly the first step of intimidation seems to subside. ”You live here?” He questions innocently without realizing just exactly who he is facing. It’s a question in relation to the other’s first question. Unlike many, he was not well versed in those that led other lands or which lands were tied to where or even who. He turns slightly towards the other, his defenses down.

    So carefree and so unaware.

    Behind him Carl floats in the shallow waters of the lake, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks inland.



    @ Gale
    Reply
    #4
    @Picard


    i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do
    ---------- i hope you dream of me



    The boy does not run.

    Gale is mildly disappointed, and the sensation has just enough shadow in it to turn his back hooves to paws, and to lengthen and angulate his hind end to something better suited for pursuit.

    The boy answers, and he sounds innocent. Like Sickle, Gale thinks, and shakes his head in disgust. Sheltered. Weak. His front feet turn to claws, and pale white feathers grow slowly from the blue skin of his front legs. The infusion of magic makes him patient as well.

    Perhaps he could draw this out, pull more from the boy than simply a quick death.

    You live here? The boy asks, and Gale shakes his head with a bemused smile. “No,” he says softly, “But it is mine.” He is King of Tephra, he tells the boy, the land to which this black-shored island owes allegiance. “Its protectors are missing, so I am here to defend it from those who think they can stay without paying tribute.”

    He deserves something for being the King of Islandres, after all. Perhaps he’ll take the boy's magic, he thinks, or his misery. The first idea is more appealing, and Gale takes a step closer.


    GALE
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