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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


    [open]  Any.
    #1
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die
    The meadow is the only place she's found that has not been touched by Beqanna's change. Green and everlasting, a expanse of grass mottled with deciduous trees. Volcan goes there on the crisp morning of summer's first breath, called to it as the moon is to the sun.

    Her baroque figure is nearly the only one at this early hour, disturbing the dew that dresses each blade of grass. The lonesomeness is at once peaceful and heart wrenching: she disliked interacting with others of her species, yet she had been a nomad all her life, and not exactly by choice. There never seemed to be the right person, the right time, the right place. Volcan is too picky - or perhaps she does not know where she fits in.

    Her dark green eyes are cast skyward, studying the cloud-covered sky intently. Then, without any indication, Volcan tears the grass from the earth and sends it skywards, the long blades whirling in simple spirals, moving and dancing as if to music. Then, she bunches the grass into three strands, and begins braiding it into a flower crown. She looks and finds simple meadow flowers, and sends them to fit neatly into the thing.

    Of course, Volcan thinks she is alone as she performs the feat.

    Of course, when someone approaches her, shit. Hits. The. Fan.
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    #2
    (He too, thought himself the only one up and about at this hour.)

    The panther rode him hard.
    Iron knows this is why Wine left him. His sister craved her original shape that much more than he did. His need to be panther had driven them apart and naturally he thought of her first thing this morning. How she’d look next to him in the dew with it gathering in beads on her eyelashes and fur. But Iron is alone and in his panther form as he slinks through the dewdrops and thoughts of his sister.

    He finds distraction in a trio of mice scared up from the dirt.
    Two are quick to scamper away but the last is not so fortunate and finds itself trapped between his paws. Iron toys with the mouse as any cat would, big or not. Teases it with the chance to scamper off and find it’s brethren but the mouse is frozen in fright. In one fell swoop, his jaws descend upon it with a crunch and a crack and he swallows the poor morsel, bones and all. He’d consider it a morning snack to tide him over.

    Bored but slightly satisfied, the panther flips over onto his back and stares up at the sky. Clouds go scudding by. Overcast, he thinks since there is no one around to say it to. Perfect for napping, especially if it rains. Iron could find a good tree than with a suitable branch to stretch out on and nap to the sound of the rain falling down through the leaves. It brings a lazy toothy smile to his face as his tail snaps to and fro in the grass beside him, ever seeming to have a mind of its own.

    But a commotion nearby disturbs him from his simple reverie and he jerks upright in a quick roll to his haunches before slanting his shoulders down in a classic stalking stance. Iron moves forward in a stealthy crouch because there is something odd going on with the grass. It is performing a curious dance in the air and grass should not be spiraling about separate from the dirt it should be anchored in. His yellow eyes are big and round in shock as he looks on - -

    Now the grass braids itself together and flowers join the mix as if pulled from the very air! Iron let slip a small growl of surprise as he raised himself up to see better and spotted the roan mare. Could she be the one manipulating the grass and flowers into a crown for herself? He couldn’t help it so he called out to her - “Are you doing that?” Panther or stallion, his curiosity got the better of him for the moment.

    @[Volcan]
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    #3
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die
    Volcan, well, she wasn't a huge fan of napping herself. The sky was indeed overcast, putting the lone mare in a bit of a shadow. For a moment she sends her powers skywards and attempts to part the massive clouds, but to no avail; she is far from a powerful telekinetic, and those molecules of evaporated water are just so damn finicky when it comes to being manipulated. She snorts and releases the effort, perturbed and feeling far from nappish.

    His approach goes completely unnoticed by the foolhardy girl, his threatening shape perfectly disguised by the grass she whips about mindlessly. The finishing touches are being added to the flower crown when the panther growls, and reveals his position - in a split second, the flower crown has unraveled itself and is pointing threateningly at the cat's throat, the grass still attached to the earth flattened in a circle around him so as to completely expose him.

    Ah, yes. Threatening grass. Volcan mentally facepalms. What kind of idiot...

    He is speaking to her then, his yellow eyes glinting in a way that suggests he is not a feline threat, but rather an equine shifter. The bastard. Volcan wordlessly suffers a thousand deaths as she tries to salvage her reputation, not having a damn clue what to do with the flimsy blades of grass pointed at the curious fellow. Damn him. Damn this. Damn!

    "So what if I am?" She grumbles at last, sending the blades whistling through the air and away into the meadow in a temper tantrum. The grass around the cat remains flattened, though Volcan questions even that - why not tangle up the damn thing and shove off? A miserable fury consumes her, and honestly, it's pretty hilarious. She will laugh about it later.

    "You're doing that cat thing, aren't you? Shouldn't be so surprised I'd say."


    This is the funniest thing I've written possibly ever. I LOVE YOU KRISTIN WHY HAVE WE NEVER THREADED TOGETHER BEFORE UGH
    Reply
    #4
    Iron the panther loved napping.
    Iron the stallion, not so much but considering that he spent most of his time in panther shape… naps had become his best friend in lieu of his sister.

    Back to the situation that has quickly escalated!
    The panther discovers that the flower crown has been unraveled and now leveled at his throat where a noticeably sizable gulp is being swallowed. Iron has never faced a threat like this before. Isn’t quite sure what to make of the sudden menace as the grass flattens all around him to further expose what was never truly hiding in the first place.

    His yellow eyes narrow in consternation as he keeps his gaze locked on what was once so beautiful and benign. Could stems and grass really cut his throat? Maybe, but he’s not willing to test that theory out because he’s not particularly keen on looking like a black pincushion full of dangerous green needles. Gods, he knew roses had thorns but this was something else altogether! He’d never look at a flower in the same fashion again. Not without picturing them being cannily wielded like wicked little stilettos against his throat…

    Finally he mustered enough courage to take his eyes off the flimsy but somehow convincing blades of grass to look at her face. Okay, she’s grumpy… maybe she didn’t get her nap today. The mere thought almost makes his mouth curl up in a lazy smile but he holds it back - probably not the best time to be smiling as she sends the grass hurtling away from them in a little temper tantrum that was actually kind of cute to see. “Well…” he began but she blazes on. Definitely pissed off. He just couldn’t divine if it was at him or at herself too. Probably both, he surmised and further tried to keep from smiling.

    “I suppose I am,” he answers smoothly, raising one paw to his mouth to give it a couple of quick swipes. If she wanted him to play the cat than he could and would. “Why wouldn’t you be surprised?” It is enough to make him drop the act for a moment and shift back into a stallion still sitting on his painted rump in the midst of the flattened grass. Iron can sometimes forget to control his shape, like his curiosity at the fact that she isn’t the least bit surprised since he’d never intended to surprise her at all. He’d just been panther so long that he forgets he is something other than that too, like a horse.

    For a moment, a look of hurt crosses his face but vanishes. “I thought what you were doing with the flower crown in the air was pretty cool. Not sure how you were doing it though....” he can admit that he is not at all familiar with most of the magic that runs rampant in this world. He should be, given his father is a fire magician and can manipulate that element to the best of his ability like making little horses of flame gallop around the heads of his sister and him as gawking little foals. Could his father have made crowns of flame for them? Like she did with the flowers?

    Great, now Iron’s mind has gone wandering and he has to snatch it back in hand.

    @[Volcan] lmfao i loved that post! they are so ridiculous together and I HAVE NO IDEA WHY WE HAVE NEVER POSTED TOGETHER BEFORE! these two are a riot! <3
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    #5
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die
    She was so busy killing herself inwardly (that nap she skipped was more important than originally deemed), that she didn't even notice the weighty gulp taken by the cat, or even the smile that was being so, so terribly hidden  - probably a good thing, or else she would really lay on the gra-ttacks... The grassassination? Definitely the grassassination. That curious little kitty would be grassassinated so fast --

    -- But I digress. Volcan didn't see him gulp or smirk, so I shouldn't carry on with the hypothetical puns. Life's like that sometimes, folks.

    As the whistle of the grass dwindled away, Volcan's energy refocused around her body a little, and her eyes caught the hint of something on the cat's smoky face. An expression. Of what? She couldn't decide, but she could decide that it didn't help her to feel any better. She felt the anger surge again within her, but the cat simply wasn't threatening enough - the powerful emotion fell flat, and in the wake of it, a kind of self-loathing sadness fell over her. Just momentarily - he was still talking, after all. No time for moping (that would be even more embarrassing).

    "It's Beqanna," She offered as in gruff tones. "I've seen weirder shit... Haven't you?" Her own curiosity peeks out with the breath of that last question - could he honestly be so sheltered? All those naps were really damaging his social development. She almost smiled at the thought, bemused at the mental image of a panther snoring belly-up in a realm where horses ruled. Shit, she didn't hide the smile fast enough! A stern look zips to take its place. How dare he...

    Of course, the real image of the painted stallion sitting flat on his ass is enough to make even the angriest, most temper-tantrumiest horses smile - after an appreciable amount of dumbfounded silence, of course. At least, that's how Volcan reacted - mouth a gape, eyes a wonder, mind a silent. Forgetting her self-implemented inhibitions, the mare starts laughing under her breath; "It's not the shifting that surprised me, just the... position."

    He's pestering her about her career as a jeweler, now, though, and her almost-friendly expression turns, well, almost-friendlier. Then angry. Then hopeful - repeat. She finds herself constantly stuck between an inhale and the beginning of a sentence - she's not exactly a girly girl, I mean, you saw her reaction to having been caught in the act after all. To have it complimented? It was like the painted horse spoke a different language. (Like, cat, or something?)

    "I... Could make you one," she says blankly, and then: "If you want? Or anything else? Like a cool horn?" Some strands of grass start floating around them, softly, timidly. Was this really happening? Was she... making... A FRIEND? "Oh, and it's pretty easy. Just like how you shifted. I just reach out and can move anything with my mind, as long as its not an animal, super heavy, or super far away."

    From the behind the thick brick wall built around the girl's true personality, a little head peeks out. Should she invite him in? Maybe not yet... But she steps closer to him anyhow, trying out a real smile in his direction. It's probably about as effective as her blades of grass were a minute ago. Fool.

    "I kinda suck though."
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