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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


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    Round 2: The Trial
    #11
    ;

    His name disappears almost as quickly as it appears and Moggett is once more surrounded by the awful scratching noise from before. He wheels around, searching for its source only to see the vast blankness transforming all around him into something entirely foreign: a stable. Of course Moggett has no way of knowing what a stable is or what it entails, so once the scene becomes solid he does his best to get out of its confinement. His furious attempts at kicking himself out of his mysterious wooden cell yield no positive results. Instead, he freezes mid-kick as he hears the sound of distant shouting. 

    In the next minute, a portion of the wooden wall opens and two strange creatures burst in. They are smaller in build than he is but slightly taller. They walk on two legs while the other two limbs gesture maniacally around, holding what appear to be brown vines in their strange chestnut-colored flesh. They appear to be hairless except for a short crop on the tops of their heads and their mouths open and close quickly with their never-ending exclamations. There is nothing Moggett can do but stand in complete terror of them and his new situation. This seems to be what they want of him, however, because they quickly quiet down and begin talking amongst themselves instead of at him. 

    Much to his relief, the strangers leave. He listens attentively as their footsteps echo outside of his stall until he is certain they have gone. Quietly, he lifts one leg and then another, just to make sure he can still move. Looking around, he notes the hay at his feet, some water in a container and some sweet-smelling dry grass in a corner opposite of where the creatures had entered and exited. The wooden walls meet a wooden ceiling on three of the four sides of his box. On the fourth there is a small square hole which he had not noticed before because the world outside of it was black – it was nighttime. This little slice of reality comforts him, but his legs suddenly wobble and give way from the adrenaline and he slumps down to the ground.

    ---

    A week has passed since his sudden imprisonment. He has learned some during this time – like that the outside can only be accessed when one of the creatures enters, wraps one of the bizarre brown vines on his head, puts something hard and heavy on his back, and leads him out. They always lead him to a round enclosure made of metal barricades. There, they bring a smaller alien and place it into the thing on his back. They force him to carry the small alien in circles for varying amounts of time before switching out one little creature for another. This continues for several hours before they lead him back to his cell. They speak a foreign language that he cannot seem to replicate, and they do not seem to understand him either. He had learned quickly to simply do whatever they wanted him to do; one of their tools was a young sapling that they used to whip his haunches whenever he did anything they did not like. 

    He is musing over his predicament one evening after a long day of senselessly walking in circles when a soft thump snaps his attention to the sole opening to his stall. A white cat with a bright red collar is now sitting on the window’s ledge above Moggett’s head. The cat seems to observe him lackadaisically with its bright green eyes and then settles itself comfortably on the ledge. Moggett huffs at the intruder and then reaches to take a bite of dinner.

    “Broken already, are we?” The cat says in a bored tone. 

    The words make the small stallion nearly jump out of his skin. The cat licks its paw and continues “Have they made you stupid, too? Close your mouth, you look like a simpleton.” Suddenly self-aware, Moggett clamps his mouth shut and tries to think clearly but is so taken aback by the cat’s sudden appearance and ability to speak that he can think of nothing to say in return.

    The cat, for his part, acts as though he has forgotten about the male entirely. He continues fastidiously with his bath for a few moments before stating (through a mouthful of fur): “If you can manage to get to the clearing in the north wood, I can help you get to your kind.” Then, as if he has simply commented on the weather, the cat turns to leave. “But how do I get out of here?!” Moggett cries, forgetting his need to be quiet in his desperation. The cat pauses and looks at him with a sense of disdain. “You don’t need any help with that – they aren’t as strong as they seem.” And with that, the cat is gone, disappearing into the night outside of his prison. 

    Moggett turns to pacing to try to work through this strange development. The cat had acted so nonchalant about escaping – as if Moggett should have been able to do so long ago. The stallion furrows his brow; it couldn’t possibly be that simple. And even if he did manage to escape somehow, how was he to find a specific clearing in the woods? He sighs and looks out the window at the moon in the inky sky above. Should he even trust the cat? He had said he could get him to his “kind” – but did that mean Beqanna? There are so many questions and possibilities swirling in his mind that he feels dizzy from it all. Fatigue from the day finally reaches him, however, and he settles down. He would attempt to escape tomorrow, he had decided. The details of his plan were still fuzzy, but this could be his one shot and he was certain only in the fact that he did not want to let it pass him by.

    ---

    Morning came much too quickly for Moggett’s comfort. As soon as the sky was visible in his window the creatures were upon him, draping him in his usual prison garb. Moggett remains still and allows them to do their typical routine, keen to remain inconspicuous until the time was right. The stall door opens and they lead him out, chatting pleasantly amongst themselves. His heart begins to race as time slows down. But before his nerves could break his resolve, they are stepping into the open towards the round enclosure. Taking a furtive look around to ensure there are no other creatures in the vicinity, Moggett clears his mind and takes a deep breath.

    The black male lurches forwards, putting all of his weight into getting away from their grasp. One of the creatures is taken by surprise and lets the vines loose as they tug from his hands but the other is more quick-witted and grabs the thing on his back and attempts to climb up. Moggett rears and the quick-witted one loses his clutch and stumbles backwards while the surprised creature makes a grab for the vines that dangle from the his face. Moggett’s forelimbs flail wildly to try to ward off the creature’s advances which forces it to jump out the way. Crashing down, Moggett uses every ounce of adrenaline in his veins to push him northwards towards the woods.

    He can hear them chasing for a time, but the sound is soon drowned out by the pounding of his own heart and hoof beats. Moggett is quite sure he has never run this fast before – his short legs blurring beneath him. As he reaches the edge of the woods he slows his pace to avoid potential collisions. Soon the brush is so thick that he must slow to a walk, placing his steps carefully amid branches and brambles. The light is dim here through the thick foliage and he feels the fear creeping in that he is being watched. The male wanders for what feels like hours, but there is no sign of a clearing and Moggett suddenly understands that this was possibly the real test. 

    Exasperated, he stops and takes a good look around, hoping that some patch of forest would look just a tad lighter than the rest. No such luck, but a sudden SNAP  makes him realize his feeling of being watched had not been so far-fetched after all. He whirls towards the sound and sees the glint of a dark pair of eyes in the brush. He barely breathes as he watches, eyes unblinking, as a canid form emerges from the dimness. A large dog, black as night, with a silver collar comes forward and sits before him. “If you’re searching for the cat, I can take you to him.” The dog says, its voice gruff, but friendly. Moggett breathes a small sigh of relief and tries to smile. “Thank you, I’m afraid I’m lost after all.” The dog nods and stands, heading a tad more to the west. “You should be wary of the cat.” The dog says without turning. “He may be your only way out of here, but everything comes at a price.” Moggett takes in the dog’s warning, too tired and wary to ask him to explain further.

    After perhaps an hour of wearily following his guide, Moggett notices that the trees are beginning to thin and he can see a light ahead growing stronger with each step. The dog stops short and sits once more, facing the horse. “You shouldn’t go unarmed – take the collar from my neck and use it when the time is right. Good luck.” Moggett looks at the dog, quizzically. “Your… collar?” He asks with uncertainty. The dog does not answer, but lowers his head to make it obvious that the collar can be removed fairly easily. The stallion reaches out tentatively and gently grasps the leather with his teeth and pulls. The collar slides off with ease, but as it passes over the dog’s black nose there is a loud POP and the taste of metal is strong in Moggett’s mouth. The dog has disappeared, and the collar is now hanging loosely around the stallion’s neck, now the same color as the other vines that hang from his face. 

    The light is beginning to wane, so Moggett does not give himself time to consider what he will possibly need this collar for as he hurries onwards. Once he breaks through into the light he is amazed to see a lone oak tree standing in the middle of the clearing. It is by far the largest tree he has ever seen, its limbs towering far overhead and its roots gnarled and twisting at its base. And there on one of its massive roots, sits the cat. Moggett approaches cautiously, and the cat stands to greet him. “Hurry up.” It says impatiently. “I’ve been waiting all day.”

    “Sorry…” Moggett says sheepishly and quickens his pace to join the cat at the oak’s base. The cat stretches and yawns and then turns to press a claw to a knot on the tree right above the root that it sat on. Moggett watched in awe as the bark on the tree began to swirl and gave way to an opening completely devoid of light. “Now” began the cat. “I don’t have enough power to make this take you to the right place unless you release me from my collar. Once I’m free, I can easily get you to where you belong.” The cat sits and watches the horse, its green eyes glinting in the light of the setting sun. Keeping the dog’s warning in mind, but keen to get home, Moggett reaches out and nips at the red leather of the cat’s collar. The collar breaks beneath his teeth and the cat is immediately transformed into a white ball of what appears to be pure light. It grows until it is the same size as the stallion and a sound like laughter emanates from it. Feeling the fear rising in his gut like bile, Moggett yells “Don’t forget your word! Make that door take me home!” The creature that was the cat pauses to touch the void which suddenly bursts into life with a brightly lit landscape, but before Moggett can take a good look at the land the once-cat steps in front of the gate. 

    “Starving…” The voice cracks like lightning and Moggett realizes that the creature is moving towards him without legs and reaching for him without arms. He feels frozen by fear, but just before the white light reaches him, the collar on his neck begins to quiver. Remembering the dog’s words, Moggett shimmies backwards, away from the creature. The collar becomes larger and slides down his neck and the stallion grabs it in his teeth as it falls, quickly tossing it upwards and then decidedly down onto the top of the powerful creature. What can only be described as a wail begins to radiate from the cat as the collar begins to constrict. Seeing his chance, Moggett darts to the door and lunges into it, leaving whatever the cat really was to suffer its defeat. 

    ---

    Now safely away from the clearing, Moggett takes a look around and his stomach drops. This was not Beqanna. The cat had tried to trick him. But before he can feel anger, fear, or trepidation at the future, he is overcome with a sense of warmth and comfort as a silver figure approaches him “What an ordeal! It seems one of our servants has gotten loose. Please, accept our sincerest apologies.” Moggett recognizes the being as a unicorn and feels as though he should be thinking of something important, but he feels so happy all of the sudden… so content. “No hard feelings.” Moggett says hazily. The unicorn smiles and Moggett can’t help but smile back. “Thank goodness” It says. “Please, come join us and rest.” Moggett nods and finds himself following the silver steed as if in a dream. On their journey, they pass a crystal-clear waterfall and the pair stop for a quick drink. It is then that Moggett gets a good look at himself and realizes that, not only was he free of his constraints, but that he, too, was now a unicorn! His once black pelt was now a pure silver and his mane and tale were shimmering like silk. A silver and pearlescent white horn spirals out of his forehead and his hooves are a matching color. He is taller too… taller than he could have ever dreamed. He feels a dark twang of anxiety in his gut somewhere, but the cool water washes it away and he and his companion move towards the rest of their kind as the magic of the land erases all of Moggett’s past worries and pains. Perhaps this is where he belonged after all…

    moggett

    I’m a weight around your neck

    Reply
    #12
    let me pick your brain, girl.
    and tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame.

    The page was blank. She could not move. How long she was like that, she could not tell. Time was of no factor in his world - he was the creator. The Author and finisher of her faith... and apparently her story. She found that even her mind was blank - she was not even permitted to have her own thoughts that were not his, or that he did not give her.

    Ceara could not even snort out her frustration - she didn't have any. 

    I can give you power, you know. A disembodied voice sounds in her head. Ceara is unable to look around. Her world is white. A voice of nothingness. "Who is that? Where am I?!" Ceara screamed - but it lacked all emotion, for the author had not written her any. So her voice, while elevated, lacked conviction, power, and anger. In truth, she was simply...blah. I can give you power, you know.... Ceara snorted, but it lacked emotion. Was she frustrated? Happy? Angry? "I know. You said that. What do you expect me to do about it?"

    And then the voice sounded even  more disembodied, and carried an echo that carried it someplace else... further way, to another page, as if a part of the story was being written ahead of her, and she had to chase it down. It spoke again, ethereal and quiet. "I can give you power, you know....but you have to find me... Ceara."  Ceara rolled her eyes. How was she supposed to find this power if she couldn't even move? I can give you power, you know....see you soooon!"

    And then, all at once, she  felt the stroke of a pencil, and then her world begins to expand again and instead of a blank, two-dimensional page, the color begins to seep back in. Ceara stretches out her neck, her black mane falling down over her face as she moves her legs - finally able to put down the leg that had been frozen up in mid air. She groaned aloud, shook out her pelt, waving her tail like a flag behind her. When all at once, her peace came to an end. her tail scraped up against a wall, and she looked around at her surroundings.

    Unable to completely turn around, Ceara looked around to her to see that she was stuck inside some sort of foreign box. A notation - the move of a pencil, and the warm heat of the sun - the desk lamp once again - and Ceara feels a smile coming from the heavens. Enjoy getting out of this one, Little One it almost says to her.

    What will you do? What story will you write?

    Ceara notes the planks of dead trees that are unnaturally stacked on top of each other, shaped to perfecton and fastened together with small  stones that held them in place. A half door opened up, and Ceara looked outside to see a row of these trees growing sideways, all unnaturally stacked together like puzzle pieces. This was foreign to her. She didn't like it. her walls were a tawny brown color - a color she could identify with, as it reminded her of Levi, and she looked at it, and was immediately frustrated again.  Ceara kicked at the structure, and it sounded hollow to her ears, which went flat and backward with frustration - first at the reality that her emotions were being controlled, and secondly that the God seemed to relish in the fact that she was frustrated. Like he wanted to see her dance. This, above all, did not make her happy. This was so unnatural. Trees did not grow this way. And they did not permanently affix to to stone. Ceara snorted and then let out a loud whinny as she kicked at the walls. She needed freedom. A creature was not meant to be contained in a box. It does things to you.

    Her eyes saw red then as she snorted, her eyes flaring. She was part draft, her large legs and hooves carried an innate strength that she hardly ever used - she never needed to. but after repeated kicks, the wood begins to give way, splintering and cracking with a loud whipping noise. The rush of fresh air seeps into the space when the wall began to give way, and this further incensed the black beauty.

    She was almost there.

    Just...one...more...kick...

    And with one last crack, the cross-beam that supported the wall and held it together splintered apart, the force of which sent Ceara tumbling backwards. The broken wood was jagged and sharp, and Ceara's mighty back legs stood no chance against the shard. Like a knife, a large piece of cross beam cut into her back left leg, and she let out a yell of pain, but when she came tumbling out of that unnatural box - she would learn later that it was called a stable - she landed unnaturally in a grass field. The adrenaline rush was so great, that though she was openly bleeding with a piece of the wall still stuck in her lower leg, once she righted herself, she ran. And she could not stop running. And then saw a white fence. The voice sounded in her head again, further away, but more permanent now, as if it had been given a body... flesh... paragraphs and words. I can give you power....but you have to come find me... see you sooooon!"

    A white fence.

    A white fence was not going to stop Ceara, who was trailing blood as she ran, unable to feel the pain as all she felt was anger at being abandoned by her brother and the man she thought she loved. She stopped, examined this fence, and snorted, turning her body and running to the other side of this field.... surely there must be another way out..

    And that's when she came to the other side of the world... where there was more white fence. FUCK THE GODS, MORE FENCES?! Ceara ran around the pasture like a madwoman, not quite coming to grips with the act that the pasture was actually an enclosed fenced space behind the barn where she was being kept. Ceara attempted to put weight on her back leg, but finding herself unable, knew that jumping was not going to happen today. But the racket she was making had woken up two sleeping grooms who had been taking a nap in the hay pile, and they came out in a sleepy, if not drunken stupor - given the way their eyes were glassy and their noses were red (or the fact that they left their half open flasks pouring all over the hay upon which they had been snoozing, but the Author makes a note to get back to that little tidbit later) - armed with ropes and angry faces.

    They cursed at her, throwing up their arms in an attempt to calm her down, and get closer to her. All it did was make her more angry, but with a hurt leg, It was all Ceara could do not to turn them around and remind her just who was in charge here. Certainly not these two legged fools with baggy pelts and weird looking manes. They spoke to each other in tones she could not understand, laughing and snorting jovially in a way that made Ceara feel threatened, and she backed up against the hay room, feeling cornered - feeling angry. She made a grunt, and shook her head no in an attempt to communicate with these daffy fools, but it was to no avail. They thought they owned everything. They were probably the ones who built these DAMN fences and told these trees to lay unnaturally with little squares all in a row. That little voice went off in her head again, and once again, Ceara was seeing red. She had to get out of here, had to find that voice. Had to make it shut up. Can't you say anything useful, If you want me to get to you so badly?

    "There's a burning kerosene lantern on a shelf above the hay bales.. Kick it."
    "What's a Kerosene?"
    "Its a fuel.."
    "What's fuel?"
    "It's a...never mind. Just kicked the wall behind you, and for God sakes make it good."
    "And why should I listen to you?"
    "Because I'm your only way out of here. Now just DO IT!"

    Of course these flabby skin sacks had no idea what the exchange was going on in front of them - all they saw was a plain black mare snorting and wuffling to herself, looking quite insane. What would they have looked like if they had understood that she was talking to an ethereal being and that none of this really existed, and that they were merely two pawns dancing about for the merriment of a god that referred to himself as Author?

    Ceara's bum was backed up against this section of the barn - for that is what these side ways trees are called - and as she limps backwards, toward it, she wonders how this being knows what is inside this building - she cannot see a door. But these grooms get closer to her, making loops out of their rope and sending them swinging wide in circles around her. She has not come this far to be put back in a box. It does things to you.

    She flare her nostrils, winces - gathers up what strength she feels she has left, and sends the shack rumbling with the strength of her legs. The unseen lamp falls off the shelf where it was happily burning, and lands on top of the hay bales that had been soaked in Alcohol. Ceara feels an ethereal mischievous smile raining down on her from above, and the heat lamp surges over her face, - only this time it is not the heat lamp. The two men who had managed to corner her throw their hats and their ropes on the ground and rush around through the side door of the shack, and cursing and yelling at each other.

    The Author sits back, watching the chaos in all its glory as he crosses his arms and watches with a satisfied grin as Ceara has managed to set the entire barn blazing, including the fence that it was attached to There is much yelling, and much more neighing as other horses are running around with their manes and tails on fire, and Ceara screeches when she realizes she no longer has the ability to shut the fire off. The blaze sets the fence around her on fire, and she rushes directly for it, hearing a bell frantically peeling behind her and the siren of 4 fire engines that have come to examine the emergency.

    The sky is red with panic, heat, and smoke as Ceara bum-rushes the fence again, stopping when she realizes it is on fire. What am I supposed to do now, oh crazy voice from page whateverthefuckyouare?"

    She waits. nothing.

    So you're going to leave me here?

    Nothing.

    The fence is on fire, the blaze threatens to engulf her as it takes over the entire barn, horses are still rushing this way and that, bounding over the fence blindly in an effort to get away from it. Ceara's leg still hurts, and is still bleeding. She can't make the jump. Fuck. The flesh sacks are back, screaming at her angrily now as they are running to her, threatening her freedom once again. There's no way in hell.

    Ceara rushes the fence, kicking dirt back in the eyes of her captors as she leaps over the fence, screaming as the fire licks her chest, her tummy, and the inside of her loins. She lands ungracefully, turning with a humanized smirk as she flashes a black tail at them, before turning around and disappearing into the woods.

    The sun has gone down and the pages once again begin whirring passed her as shadows of trees, which slow down of their own accord and change into the most particular shade of blue. I can give you power, you know..." The voice has returned to its same repetitive message. and it sounds like it's getting closer.

    This place, wherever she was, was forcing her to slow down.... the pages were slowing, and she looked around. A wintery, forest, dressed in a gown of fog. The stillness was so picturesque, it almost seemed like it was meant to be an enchanted forest. And behind the trunk, she sees two eyes. And a little hat. She cannot see what it is yet, exactly, but she hears the voice again, this time, out loud. "I can give you power, you know...welcome, Ceara. I hope your journey was pleasant." Ceara stopped, ready to open her mouth and tell this little whatever just what she thought of his games, but she looked down and saw that her toes were changed. she was shorter, slimmer....She shook her head, her mane getting caught up around her forehead....tangled up... around a black.... spiraled...

    "AAHHH!! HORN?! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?"

    And here she was, a typical unicorn, black as night, stuck in an enchanted forest.... like this was sort of goddamned fairy tale.

    Her life was anything but a fairy tale.

    And yet, the Author leaned back, crossing his arms, seemingly satisfied with his creation.

    If he had given her an extra toe, Ceara had half a mind to show him her middle one.

    Because this fucking sucked.



    ceara
    offspring x reagan, smoke healing & fire negation


    WC: 2,260

    TL;DR.

    Ceara Kicks the back wall of the stable open, hurt her back left leg, which opens up into an enclosed pasture/paddock area. She wakes up two grooms who passed out drunk on the job. Ceara set the barn on fire, jumped the fence and burned herself, before running into an enchanted forest, turning into a black cloven hoofed unicorn with a black traditional horn and tale of a unicorn. She thinks she is hearing voices (It's a yet to be fully seen goblin, who is hiding in the trees and fog), and she's generally pretty angry with life right now

    Obstacle 1: Kicking the Wall open
    Obstacle 2: The fence.
    Obstacle 3: Drunk, angry grooms.
    Obstacle 4: Burning barn, fence on fire.
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