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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


    Oh, what fickle flame (Jenger Pony)
    #1

    That dirty rat bastard.

    Every time Tiberios got a single good glimpse of him through the void he’d wished to the Gods above that he would be granted one second of passage so he could rip that slimy little shit’s face off. Life hadn’t been over for the old Falls King, it had just begun, and that seafoam green freak had reached out a single finger and swiped it all away from him. He’d missed his children’s birth, he’d missed holding Talulah close to him in those hours following, he’d missed on connecting once again with the sibling he never knew. Instead he was granted few-and-far between snippets of them as they grew and changed. While others around him had strayed far from the shores of Beqanna, disappearing to who knows where in order to rest their spirits eternally, Tiberios had stuck stubbornly behind, scowling with his half-scarred face and pacing like a restless beast encaged.

    There was no peace for him anymore.

    There were, however, perks. Hunger no longer clawed at him, he needed no rest. He was never bothered, never approached by the other spirits about him. In fact, he wondered if they saw him at all. The living certainly didn’t. He would be ashamed to admit how long he’d spent pushing himself into the fog of what was once the Dale, trying effortlessly to catch Talulah’s attention. Months, if you were curious. No - things worked differently around here. You could, in essence, wander Beqanna. Though now that he had crossed the divide, everything was slate grey and black, covered in a thick fog that caused him to walk as if he were wading through mud, and the further he tried to ingress into the heart of the living realm, the more he began to fade and forget. Eventually, he’d given up and returned back to the misty shores of his resting place to watch his body decompose into nothingness - the waves of life eventually reaching out to gather his bones and deposit them somewhere on the seafloor.

    He hadn’t gotten the chance to be reunited with his dam, Miraposa. He assumed that she had traveled to the beyond, to connect with her ancestors and find eternal peace. But he couldn’t leave - couldn’t go just yet. There was still so much of life he clung to, and even in death it killed him to realize this. It was times like these that the hairless brute plodded aimlessly through the expanse of the netherworld, never stopping to try and hold conversation with any other being left behind. They all seemed so sad to him, and he understood why. With a sigh the black-and-white stallion lets his defenses down, raises his head, and screams his frustration to a deaf world, “I’m so BORED!”

    Tiberios

    king of the falls


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    Oh, what fickle flame (Jenger Pony) - by Tiberios - 04-01-2016, 07:55 PM



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