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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


    [private]  F R E A K S H O W [Kwartz]
    #1
    The day in the forest was one he looked down upon. A failure, at best, was what that was. The children had bested him and he was left to slink into the shadows, that is, until Sabra renounced her throne and everything fell into place perfectly. His kingdom, his forest, and now, his captive

    Kwartz has grown into a fine young stallion. His height and build alone was enough to suit him for the ranks of Sylva. But, it was his mind that Mortem feasted after. He was vulnerable from the hardships, angry from the betrayal, and naive from his youth. It wouldn’t take much time for the clown to have him like a puppet in the palm of his hand. 

    “Kwartz...” His words, a whisper on the wind. The boy was his captive, but could he make him worth more? Only time could tell “Welcome home.”

    @[Kwartz]
     

    |Proceed with Caution|


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    #2
    He had come. He had no choice, by the laws of the land, but there was more to it than that. Tephra waa not home. It was a smelly, overly warm pile of rocks filled with horses he resented. Mother had not come for him, nor sent word of her situation, nor any kind of contact at all. For all intents and purposes, he had been abandoned. Granted, he was nearly grown now. Long past the age when a foal stopped needing it's mother to survive. Still, the facts hurt. Clearly, he had needed his mother much more than she needed him, and the trail of lies that had made up his childhood only served to cement that concept. 

    So he had come, willingly and without a fuss. When the steal had been declared, the emotion he had turned almost to relief. This was something, some action, some release for the anger inside. And he was going home. As the trees began their familiar shift into perpetual autumn, he smiled slightly. He might very well be walking into his death, but at least he got to see his home once more. 

    The painted Pegasus was taller now than when he'd left. A growth spurt had placed his stature nearly parallel to his sire's, though he had yet to fill out this newly lengthy frame. It would come, with another year or so. Not that it mattered, terribly. He was here, captive of the clown. That fucking clown. His eerie voice bounced from the trees, raising hair along the young stallion's spine. It was impossible to tell which direction the mocking whisper had originated from. Ears tilting back against his skull, Kwartz turned his head to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse of the demon who had summoned him here. "Show yourself, freak. I'm here. What do you want with me?" All sense of peace from the familiar surroundings evaporated as he remembered just how dark these woods could be. 

    @[Modicum Mortem]
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    #3
    https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tinos" rel="stylesheet">
    I'm every nightmare you've ever had, I'm your worst dream come true.

    “Freak?” Mortem questions the young stallion, emerging from the trees behind him, careful to avoid any flying legs. “Is that any way to speak to your savior?” He howls, walking around him until he is in front of him, ice eyes peering into Kwartz’.

    Anger and resentment are plastered all over his face for the world to see. He doesn’t have much of a poker face, but that will come with age. Morty grins up at him - his growth spurt had put him nearly three hands taller than the clown. He was lanky with youth, still, but would be growing into himself soon. Mortem raises a brow.

    “Did you not want to come back to Sylva, Kwartz?” He asks, faking curiosity. “Did you want to stay with the people who lied to you all those years? The people who knew but never had the guts to admit it? The mother who kept the secret from you, making you a bastard, hmm?” He questions, circling him like a vulture circling his next meal. Kwartz was already dead inside, Mortem just needed to feast. “You want to go back to them, Kwartz? Or would you rather make a name for yourself?”
    Modicum Mortem
     

    |Proceed with Caution|


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    #4

    Kwartz

    From the darkness emerges his nightmare. Black as sin, the clown was no longer attempting to shield his madness from the world. Maybe it was stupid to antagonize him. It probably was. Kwartz found himself not caring. His face twisted with disdain as the evil tone grated on his flattened ears. 

    The tirade of questions washed over him. He was here because he had been summoned. He owed no loyalty to Tephra... gritting teeth against it, he waited the words out until the black mark had exhausted himself. Tilting his head to keep the other in view he finally decided to speak. What would it hurt? He knew nothing of any other kingdom. It's not like he'd be betraying anyone. Even if he were, he wasn't sure he had it in him to feel sorry for it. "Yes, Freak, I'd say it is. I did not ask to be saved, and you're not the type to save anyone without some personal motivation." His tune dripped with unmitigated hated, between the bitten off syllables. His hooves may have been rooted to the earth for all he intended to be moved by the forces around him. 

    But one thing rang true: he did not want to go back. What was there for him? A father he didn't know, who had chosen his half siblings over himself. In the other direction was his mother, who he had come to realize couldn't tell the truth if it would save her life. She had been his world and that world had come crashing down. "Why do you care. What's your angle on this, freak?" None of this made sense yet. He felt like he'd fallen into some perverted mimicry of the life he'd known before. He'd come expecting torture and violence, not queries into his well being. That had to be the freakiest part of this whole thing.

    So am I loveless or do I just love less?

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    #5
    https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tinos" rel="stylesheet">
    I'm every nightmare you've ever had, I'm your worst dream come true.

    He has him trapped where he wants him.

    The boy seethes and sizzles, words venomous like that of a snake. He is angry, with every right to be so. He has nothing - who else does the boy have to turn to but the clown?

    “I’ve been here since you were a child, boy,” Mortem states, shoulders shrugging. “I knew you were worth more than what your mother and Klaudius gave you credit for. Their selfishness has done you no good, so I’m here to offer you something they couldn’t.”

    His small body sidles up close to the boy, ice eyes staring intently into his. “Come with me, and lets make Sylva great together. Let’s teach all those fuckers who hurt you a lesson. Let’s be freaks together.” His crooked grin is hard to unravel - is he smiling because his tricks are working, or is it because he genuinely wants to help the boy? No one would ever know.
    Modicum Mortem


    @[Kwartz]
     

    |Proceed with Caution|


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    #6
    He gazed unevenly at the shadowy stag before him. His dead eye glistened in the low light, while his silvery hazel one stared emotionless. In some sick, twisted way, it made sense. Family had failed him, in more ways than he'd realized. 

    The slick speaker sidled up to him, that maniac grin never slipping from place. With a small moment of brittle amusement, he noted that he was now considerably taller than the clown. "Say I agree with you, and stay here. What exactly do you have in mind?" Kwartz' tilted his head, subconsciously mimicking his mother's characteristic defiance. 

    A humorless smile stretched his lips, leaving his eyes hard. "For the record, I still hate your guts, Freak. But I'm in." He shrugged, knowing he had nothing to lose. Life had kind of fucked him so far. Maybe it was about time he pushed back. 

    @[Modicum Mortem] this is super short, sorry :[
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    #7
    https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tinos" rel="stylesheet">
    I'm every nightmare you've ever had, I'm your worst dream come true.

    “Let the darkness in your heart reign supreme, Kwartz,” The clown says, slinking back towards the shadows. “Use your hate. Let it fuel you. The evil of Beqanna will rule again, with you and I at the forefront. You can have your revenge, all you ever wanted.” There is a pause, a moment of silence as Mortem listens to the breeze as it whispers through the forest.

    “Take someone captive. Anyone, someone you despise. Kill them, torture them, do what you will. Then you will see boy...you will see all you’re capable of.” and then he is gone, a shadow, retreating into the copper forest until they would meet again.



    Modicum Mortem

    @[Kwartz] basically he wants Kwartz to find someone to torture and/or kill. Not to prove himself to Morty but moreso prove that he CAN.
     

    |Proceed with Caution|


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