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    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


    i'm not a girl. i'm a storm with skin. amet - any
    #1
    The daughter of Carnage wears confidence like a crown on her seafoam head.

    She trots across the kingdom with determination carved into the features of her small face - head high and poised as if she were the princess of the land. Her path is straight as she makes for the lake in a royal procession of one. Her skull is all hard angles, tapering into a teacup muzzle which is exaggerated, almost comically, at this stage in her growth. Here eyes are stern and dark - deep pools of amethyst which seems nearly black when the light is low. But today, the sun is intense in the clear sky, and these eyes, they sparkle like cut gemstones. 

    She does not smile, as her mother would, her lips press together to form a tight line. Her body proclaims that she is young, but her soul is old and her father is a god - and she has never met another child before, so she does not act like one. She follows the path she has taken many times in her dreams in a sure-footed march. 

    Celest does not look at the land around her with wonder and awe; if she passes another horse she does not acknowledge them. She had seen this golden stallion in a premonition, spoken with him even, and she would stop for no one other than him. Even though she is not as wary of strangers as her mother wishes she was, the teal filly is on a mission today which will not be interrupted by chance encounters. She is small but staunch, and she has something to prove.

    She has business with the king.

    @[Amet] @[Corvus]
    [Image: celest_by_cowgirlconrad-dcolc1l.png]




    #2
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    To say that his last conversation with Tangerine did not leave a hollow pit in his stomach would be a lie. He thought on it often, the way his anger had been misinterpreted and the memory of his painted Advisor telling him to rest and turning to leave without so much as a backwards glance. Bitterness had bloomed within him, but only briefly. Tangerine had done too much, meant too much, for him to hold onto that bitterness. But perhaps her place is in Tephra now, with her children, and away from the Dragon King who she had thought too naive to understand her relationship with the Dark God, Carnage.

    And perhaps it's better that way, now that he has Ciri to confide in. The smoky black mare had shown him in the simplest of ways that it was okay for him to get angry and to express that anger. That it did not make him a bad person. All she had to do was stand there, a pillar of support, when rage had burned hot in his chest.

    Anger is not a natural emotion for the young stallion - it reminds Amet of Him, of the trauma He had bestowed upon himself and the twins. He would much rather feel anxiety or indifference, but at least now he knows how to harness it. He knows that he does not have to become like Shalla's partner whenever he begins to feel that anger.

    Today he is lakeside, as he usually is. The gilded stallion is lost in his thoughts as he considers Hyaline's future. He knows what his vision is and he thinks he knows how to get there, but first... First, he wants Iset back in their sanctum. He wants his family back. And he wants them back now, so he pivots his gilded frame away from the lake and makes to head for the Forest, but before he can get more than two strides away from the shore, a celestial filly peels herself away from the vibrant treeline. Her coat is beautiful, almost mystic, but it's the determination on her young face that draws his attention.

    It's the same expression he had seen cross Tang's face once or twice before.

    "Hello there," he greets the filly with curiosity, allowing his ears to twist towards her attentively - obviously, she is here for a reason.
    Amet


    @[Celest]
    #3
    .Corvus.
    (yes, I am alone)
    but then again, I always was. as far back as I can tell.
      He is quiet.

      He is always quiet.

      He felt no need to make his presence known – he had come with his mother, Circinae, to find refuge, to find solace. He kept to himself, quietly guarding a border he had never been asked to. The lingering memory of fire and brimstone with roiling seawater had not gone from his mind yet, and perhaps it never would. He had seen all that he had ever known in his youth swallowed by the ocean and the hot, molten core of the Earth below – it was a sight that had burned itself into his memory; into every wayward dream and every waking nightmare. He loathed the possibility he could see it happen again.

      His feathered appendages lay heavily along the curve of his barrel, inky and gleaming in the pale light of day – iridescent beneath its gentle rays, warming the hollowed bone to the core. He does not take to the sky often; it does not give him any comfort to be closer to the starlight that so openly mocks him, nor to the pale moon and its glaring surface, illuminating every fault and flaw etched into his gilded skin.

      And yet starlight –

      Starlight is what takes his breath away.

      A vision of beryl and amethyst – youthful in the way of her flattened hip and long, spindly legs, but wise beyond her years in the hardened ridge of her brow and the intensity of her stare. He, himself, is on the cusp of his own maturity – there are still pieces of him that show his youth, though the once gangly legs have given way to thick muscle and testosterone had begun to round out his jaw with definition. He is caught between, his heart thundering in his chest as he observes the gilded King and the celestial creature that stand before him with purpose.

      He had never felt a tender knot in the pit of his belly before, until her.

      His legs carry him closer, away from the distant wisteria tree, and the finely preened feathers of his dark wings tuck closer to his body as his haphazard emerald tresses fall in the way of his eyes. Ever the brooding sort, he is quiet, deliberately so, but he is soon alongside Amet, a nod of acknowledgement and appreciation given to the King he knew of but did not quite know - but he does not say a word.

      Her presence, stirring him from his ruminating reverie, has captured his attention.
    I think maybe it's because you were never really real to begin with.
    (I just made you up to hurt myself)
    #4
    She comes across him where she thought she may, he is golden and young with kind, curious eyes. But for all her supernatural knowledge she is not in tune to his inner monologue involving her mother - the way he compares and contrasts her, the way he has written her off so easily after one foul conversation. If she had of know, been able to reach for thoughts the way she could reach for the future, her next words would have been very different. But she is no mind reader, which is probably better for the world at large, and she does not falter in her mission - which contradicts Amet's secret wish of Tang returning to Tephra. 

    She only wears a look of satisfaction- things are going perfectly according to plan (or premonition). But before she can speak a colt appears, taking the side of his king with cool confidence. She frowns and little wrinkles settle across the star on her brow -  she had never seen this colt in a dream. 

    Her jewel-tone eyes flash towards the unexpected addition and she looks the colt over with an unabashed curiosity. The filly has seen very few faces in her short life and each one held a magnetic pull. He looks like a creature who would be at home by the river, with his raven-dark wing and fern colored forelock, she would not have been surprised to find him there. But she is not alone by the river now; she is in a foreign kingdom, under the nose of the reigning monarch, and her attention returns to the king. 

    "She wants to see you," she says to Amet in a voice much bigger than she is. Her mother was terrified of new faces and Celest intended to show these she wasn't scared. 

    'Be sweet, Starlight - he is a friend to us,' Tangerine had pleaded with her wild daughter. But Celest liked statements more than questions and her mother's harshest punishment was a disappointed sigh when she disobeyed her. 

    "And only you, Amet." Celest holds the kings gaze with strength, but once her message has been delivered (the important part anyway, her mom hadn't seen this scaled guy in six months what she had to say could wait for a little longer) her amethyst eyes slide back to the raven-winged colt and she finds herself suddenly wishing to be done with the business she came to accomplish. She may be too young to feel the stirrings of attraction, but she likes the way he is looking at her - it affirms her pride. 

    "What's your name." She asks the boy with a tilt of her dainty head, facade slipping slightly. "Maybe you should show me around, because he," A nod to Amet without taking her eyes off Corvus, "has somewhere to go."
    [Image: celest_by_cowgirlconrad-dcolc1l.png]




    #5
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    From the time the celestial filly exits the trees to when she comes to an assured halt before him, the gilded stallion is joined by Corvus. His amber eyes break away from the daughter of Tangerine for just a moment to regard the elusive buckskin colt. Amet flashes a small smile in his direction, mostly at Corvus' unfaltering gaze, before turning back to the stargirl. He wonders from how far she has traveled; his painted Advisor had birthed her here, within the safety of Hyaline, but her scent has begun to fade since then.

    It leaves him feeling sad, though it combats any bitterness that threatens to surface.

    The painted filly faces him squarely, with her face upturned and almost defiant. She reminds him of Iset. It makes him grin, until she speaks. Her statement, seemingly casual enough, is hardened with confidence and importance; Amet is quick to frown as worry sweeps over him. "Is she okay?" he asks the young girl, anxious for the answer. How fickle his emotions can be, his bitterness over their last conversation long forgotten.

    "Where is she?" he asks tersely as he pivots away from the filly and Corvus, ready to go immediately to Tangerine's aid.
    Amet


    @[Corvus] @[Celest]




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