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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


    Offer me that deathless death. Ivar, any.
    #1
    I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

    They had spent that fall in something of a lover's trance - though not romantic lovers, by any means. Moreover, they had played a long and intriguing game of tag, being both coy and explicit with one another. Trissy found it amusing and quaint, and allowed herself to enjoy their swims and sinful little frolics. Eventually, however, Ivar had resigned himself to his duties, and returned to Loess - Trissy was not far behind, but the slight lag was not at all innocent.

    She enters the the leafy, mountainous kingdom without hesitation. Her lithe black figure fits well into the scenery, but an ant from an eagle's view. It is her first time within the kingdom, and already she likes it better than Ischia - Ischia was hot and sticky (and I don't mean the weather), whereas here, the mountains call to her passionately. Soon, she will be enjoying their slopes with a reckless abandon, losing herself to the fantasy that perhaps she might be in the Beyond again. But too much has happened for her to return to that place now; now, she is here.

    And how she so deliciously delights in it.

    Her petite figure reeks of another stallion, but it is subtle - his scent, Torture's scent, is so alike her own that only a trained nose could pick apart the difference. It was her scent, but muskier, headier. As if she had just gone for a long, very exerting run (and how she had). Still, Ivar's scent is also blatantly apparent in her aura; Trissy grins openly at the thought of meeting Heda, the kelpie's darling wife. How much utter fun - in every kind of way.

    She weaves her way through the kingdom, lost as to where she ought to be heading, having no escort in this foreign land. Eventually, however, someone finds her - it does not take long, and indeed, it is exactly what she has been waiting for.

    Trissy
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    #2

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
    Ivar is certain he’s about to lose his mind.

    The fluidity with which the damn queen changes her mind is enough to shake even the very bedrock of Beqanna; surely Ivar can’t be blamed for reacting the way he had. Nothing he ever does is right, and if it is it’s at the wrong time, and if it isn’t there’s something wrong after all. The irony of the cyclical relationship doesn’t avoid the piebald creature, but he still feels powerless to stop it. He is not entirely sure he wants to, of course, which is half the damn problem.

    He strides back to Loess alone, a blur of monochrome motion. The water has dried from his scaled hide, but moisture remains in his corded locks, dripping water down his hide now and again. They glow in the late afternoon light, even those on the otherwise matte black parts of his coat. The path he takes will lead him to the spring where Heda stays, and he is headed there without conscious thought. There he will be able to relax, to find calm in the haze of whatever it is that he and Isobell have caused.

    She will make him feel better - quite literally - and he will fall into her embrace like a sane man once more. That’s why he keeps her; she is the salve for his own self-inflicted suffering.

    Knowing the path as well as he knows the length of his own pale forelegs, the tall stallion is not truly watching where he is going. He rounds a curve in shallow canyon expecting to find only a quiet copse of aspen, sprinkled here and there with colorful bursts of plumeria in every color imaginable. Instead he collides into a significantly smaller someone heading the opposite direction, his broad shoulder slamming into theirs. He reaches out without thinking, his mantled neck wrapping over theirs to ensure they do not stumble.

    Sight alone had made him think them a child – but whose? – but as Ivar recovers his balance and takes in a breath, he realizes who it is he has caught.

    This is not at all what he had in mind for this late autumn evening, but it certainly washes the displeasure from his expression as quickly as Heda might have.

    “Come to see me again?” Asks the pale faced stallion with a grin, pulling away to run his mouth down her shoulder before releasing her entirely from his hold. She’d left to do whatever it is that mares do when they do not want to be found, and Ivar hadn’t begrudged Trissy her privacy. He had plenty else to do, after all, he did not miss a single petite mare. A mare that tastes just faintly enough of another man that Ivar wants to erase the scent completely. “Or come to say goodbye?”


    king of loess
    minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus

    #3
    I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

    She is captivated by the colours of the land and its fauna as the shallow canyon she is following splits left, embarrassingly lost in her admiration for the beauty of it (there was no such beauty in the Beyond). Without any warning, a significantly larger someone has barreled into her - the small mare feels her balance give way, but a strong neck catches her and draws her in close.

    Ivar.

    Despite all her self-proclaimed hardness and servitude, the mare melts into his embrace and pressing her cheek into his scaled side, exhaling peacefully into his damp mane. There is reassurance in his touch - a kind of consistency that she trusts. Like him, she finds relaxation and distraction in his presence. Sue her for succumbing to her femininity; she really does like this stallion.

    The kelpie pulls away as he speaks, though she doesn't resent the distance. Her own mouth lips gently at his hardened shoulder, though she's not sure if his nerve endings can sense such a delicate and sensual touch through the light armour. Regardless, she knows that they will share many such touches again soon, and she relaxes into a hip to entertain His Majesty's Royal Desires (that being some chit chat, for now).

    "Come to stay, if it please you," She says with some playfulness, her expression quite pleasant considering her usual disposition. Her eyes catch the light that falls into the canyon, and they rest easily on King, admiring his luster and sheen. "And my brother might join me, if I have any say in things." Torture was a man of his own command, after all; but she fancied the idea of having him causing trouble with her in Loess, never mind the havoc it might cause considering the romantic standpoints of everyone involved. But she could get him to promise to stick just to her - maybe...

    "Walk with my, Ivar," she says, stepping forward and straining to nuzzle his mouth affectionately towards her desired path. "And tell me about this kingdom of yours. Where do I fit in it? I'd like to be of some use, politically and all. Physically, there's no more of me than meets the eye -" though Ivar hadn't seemed to mind that in Ischia, no sir "- so the war caste is probably not a good fit for me." She casts her black eyes towards him, smiling slightly and laughing. "You are, though." Physically, if not emotionally.

    The canyon echoes their hoof-beats quietly as the walk.


    Trissy
    html by maat
    #4
    Heda
    It isn't often that she leaves, their spring, where her love and passion for her dreamy kelpie lover flourishes. But today, her king's sudden and rather short absence draws her out from her little nook in gorgeous sunset hills. She wanders for a while, through the cacti dotted hills where kangaroos skipped about, and to the few sources of water in the kingdom, but no sight of him. It doesn't take long for her to resort to other methods, her golden wingspan expands and with a quick an elegant leap she lifts off fluttering into the cobalt skies of her kingdom.

    It doesn't take long for her to spot him, and no surprise he's with another women. Although she should be used to the sight by now, but something inside her still resists the acceptance of this herd of his. For many moons now he has been holding his pretties, snatching any tempting morsel in sight, and drags all of them here. She's tempted inflict an emotion upon the girl, something that would frustrate even anger him to the point of complete sabotage. But she holds back, a tiny voice in hr head reminds her of her duty to all of the ladies he brings here, she's the lead mare, she's the mother to his children. 

    So she watches for a moment, eyeing the girl as she walks beside him through the narrow canyon it doesn't take long for her to will herself with the courage to intrude. She descends with grace, landing with a quick sweep, and neatly folding her feathery plumage at her sides. Her hazel gaze remains fixed upon the two, as she steps forwards in a bouncy prance like gate behind the two. 

    It doesn't take long for her to catch up, flanking Ivar's right side, she comes up beside him pressing her muzzle against his barrel and running her velvet across his mix of ivory and obsidian scaled neck, and reaching over to caress his soft muzzle in a greeting. "Hello my love." She murmurs, fluttering sunlight wings, in a rather joyful tone. Her head lowers to catch a glimpse of the girl beside him, "Hello, I'm afraid we haven't met. I'm Heda, Consort and Ambassador to Ivar." Her words are sweet and thick like honey.

    She had been listening to their conversation while she had been trailing behind them, so she was all up to speed. Especially with that rather awful pick up line that small women had slipped into talk of politics, she disregards it jumping straight into conversation. "I couldn't help but overhear your interested in politics, we're always in need of new diplomats!" She smiles, gaze flickering to Ivar as she gently brushes her wing against him emitting a small dash of love. "What do you think Ivar? Would she make a good diplomat?" She questions, knowing that he may become distracted by the love that she faintly placed upon him. Her hues fixed on him curiously as to how he would respond.
    Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
    html by call

    Couldn't help but butt in with her, after all she does need a bit of drama.
    [Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]
    Ex-Queen of Loess
    ・❥・
    #5

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
    When it was bitterly cold in the very heart of winter, the sea up north sometimes froze into crests of motionless surf. The ice there was thick and impenetrable, covering an endless acreage of black water and empty sea. Ivar thinks of it frequently, but less so when he is in company. He is not sure if he reminisces to seek pleasure or to punish himself, and so he does his best to avoid remembering altogether. He is successful for the most part, but there are times – times like these – when he cannot help himself.

    A shiver crosses his broad shoulders at the memory, but given the crisp air that blows around them that is nothing unexpected. It’s an appropriate reaction to the surprise of someone coming up alongside him without warning. Ivar had – admittedly – been a bit distracted, but he is so rarely truly startled that his scowl remains even when he sees who it is. Even as Heda slinks alongside him like a jealous cat, the kelpie does little more than incline a single dark ear in her direction. He does not match her smile until she presses her satin wing to his side; only then does he smile down at her.

    She introduces herself to Trissy as both Ambassador and Consort, and Ivar runs a possessive muzzle down the slope of her neck as she settles in on his other side. Sandwiched between two mares is not a foreign daydream to the piebald stallion, but usually there is a bit less tension in the air when it comes to his fantasy.

    “Trissy would make an excellent diplomat,” he tells Heda. “I think you’ll find that she’s quite adept at getting what she wants. Such skill is useful for… the kingdom.”

    There’s less clouding of his thoughts in said daydreams, as well, but the emotion that Heda has placed on him keeps him leaning more against her (though wants Trissy close as well, ever an instinctive creature). Distance might be good, he reasons, and so the kelpie pulls ahead, scrambling atop a rough patch of boulder to survey the nearby land.

    “We should show Trissy the kingdom,” says the kelpie, his tone neutral and somewhat distracted. His brown gaze is on the long line of the narrow canyon ahead of them. “What do you think she should see first?”



    king of loess
    minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus



    Ugh I am sorry this suck but I wanted to get y’all something!
    #6
    I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
    Ah, yes, mother goose. Trissy has been expecting you - the hen to cluck cluck around her spritely, competitive chicks. She'd have to watch out for a hard peck administered under the guise of warmth - mothers get jealous, you know. Especially this one, it seems. Ivar did warn her, at least.

    The addition of another pair of hooves to their clamor brings an ear around to the sound, but no more investigation is required - a beautiful mare comes up in a flourish to stand by Ivar, interrupting their conversation. Trissy doesn't mind; her eyes, like Ivar's, are turned harshly in their direction of travel, nary a glance given to the Wife. At first, that is. Without any obvious influence, the kelpie's demeanor softens, and Trissy is left to roll her eyes, smirking into the vast canyon.

    Heda introduces herself with a thick, sweet tone. Trissy tosses her head over Ivar's shoulder, too short to meet the woman's eyes otherwise. It's a bit awkward, resting her chin on the stallion while walking, but it's worth it to see her reaction, to meet her gaze squarely.

    "Lovely to meet you, Queen Consort," Trissy purrs, smiling her most darling, sensual smile. "My pleasure indeed." She lingers there on Ivar's shoulder for one more moment, and then drops her head, walking evenly with the couple and listening to them talk about her. Glorious. What fun!

    Trissy smirks but doesn't react at Ivar's insinuation. Yes, she got what she wanted from Ivar during that time in Ischia - but of course, he had been more than willing to give it. Trissy figures it's that little fact that will irk Heda more than anything. For now, however, Ivar seems to be leaning ever closer to the woman - a fact she accepts. She had just spent a rather lustful time with another man, after all - no hypocrisy here. Just a little devilry.

    Head bouncing to attention at Ivar's sudden departure from their love-sandwich, Trissy flares her nostril and nickers after him curiously. Smiling a little at his words, the little black mare scrambles up next to him, maneuvering easily through the shale rock and boulders. "I would love that," she says, genuinely. "It's been a long time since I called somewhere home. It'd be good to know how to get in and out of it, if I'm to be a diplomat." She smiles; even at Heda.

    Trissy
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