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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


    It’s hard to stop what you can’t see, anyone
    #1

    I’ll break you a hundred different ways
    and I’ll make you remember my face - - -


    He can’t remember the last time he was here.

    Unlike many, he felt no connection with the land of his birth. He didn’t seem to notice the change in the air; that feeling you got when you entered somewhere and you could feel the electricity, the tense charge that just told you something had happened. That something was different  He didn’t seem to notice that nearly all the faces were different, mainly because he couldn’t even remember who he had half-ass attempted to feign interest in the last time he was here. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was fairly certain he had children, but he isn’t sure who they are. On the bright side their mothers probably weren’t still alive, so he was saved from that awkward encounter of having to remember who they were.

    He is bright blue, with a cerulean-colored mane that fell in a thick, tangled mess down his oddly colored neck. Yet the color is somewhat hidden by the darkness that has settled in the meadow, the stars glinting lazily above in the spots where clouds didn’t hide them. And as the night fell around him, his vision shifted. No longer did the world come in shades of black, gray and the dappled light that usually accompanied the night. Effortlessly the scenery around him changed, and the objects that emitted heat were starkly contrasted against those that did not. It was an odd array of colors, sometimes making it difficult to decipher personal features, but it was merely used as an extra precaution that was sometimes needed with the coming of night. He could survive without it, of course, the same way that everyone else did, but what was the point of having the ability if he never used it? It made it easy to see someone approaching without having to really pay close attention, and he really hated paying attention to anything.

    With half-hidden eyes he watches them, his legs brushing easily through the grasses of the meadow. It has cooled down considerably now that night has fallen, but the air was still warm, and a tangled tail snapped at the obnoxious insects that landed on his legs. He walks on, ignoring most as he passes them, and he finds it mildly amusing how it seems that no one in Beqanna ever slept. Everything happened at night in this place.

    R A E D
    the cerulean son of
    trashlip and ryatah
    [Image: Raed.jpg]
    (click for full size)
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    #2

    Leilan
    Demons run,
    but count the cost...
    Friendship dies and true love lies
    Night will fall and the dark will rise
    It's emotion that fuels the elemental magic he wields - and so he gives off only cold, a temperature lower than the night sky surrounding them this summer.

    Instead of beating up grass, tonight he is on the move. Where to? No idea. Don't care, as long as it's not to Nerine. North then, home? No, he's avoiding the tropical islands for a few days, he doesn't want to be home right now and be with his kingdom-mates who'd definitely see that something is off. And so, he's becoming the terror of the meadow, briskly moving around, kicking at trees and the grass, and having most other horses (mares, with foals) move out of his way before he's even close enough to touch.

    Not this guy though.

    He's almost upon him before he sees him - the roan doesn't really watch where he's going, and the guy before him is blue, blending with the twilight and the summer night sky at this hour. Still emitting his frosty aura, practically incapable of shutting that down in his anger and upset emotional rollercoaster, he stops and stares the other man down. "Watch where you're going!" he snarls.
    the battle's won, but the child is lost


    @Raed because he needs to get it out on someone -shrugs-
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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    #3

    I’ll break you a hundred different ways
    and I’ll make you remember my face - - -


    He knew the stallion was coming. He didn’t need his infrared vision, or even regular vision, because he was making enough noise all on his own. The stomping footsteps and snapping twigs in the middle of an otherwise quiet night was like a bull in a china cabinet. The blue stallion, however, makes no effort to move. Instead he shifts his attention to the temperamental stranger, noting how the warm glow of orange, red, and yellow of his body was surrounded by a frigidly cold blue. Seamlessly his vision shifts back to normal, blinking to adjust to the darkness. By this time the male is snarling before him, and if he had been capable of such emotion, he probably would have laughed. Being as that was rarely his reaction to anything, he continues to stare coldly at the stranger.

    There is a heavy silence between them, as the blue stallion seemed to be calculating. Raed was capable of being irritably calm, even though he may be silently fantasizing about where to best land a direct hit - he was thinking the jaw might be a good one, but, it would take more urging for him to act on it. Instead, he flicks his blue tail idly, still showing no sign of heeding the strangers request. ”My, my,” the words come slow and toneless, tilting his brightly colored head to regard the other male with mild disdain, “It appears someone missed their afternoon nap.” For a moment his lips twitch into a mirthless smirk, his attention once more sweeping across the sleepy meadow. ”Maybe tone down on the temper tantrum a notch, the other children are trying to sleep.”

    R A E D
    the cerulean son of
    trashlip and ryatah


    @[Leilan]
    [Image: Raed.jpg]
    (click for full size)
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    #4

    Leilan
    Demons run,
    but count the cost...
    Friendship dies and true love lies
    Night will fall and the dark will rise
    The stallion before him is not affected by his temper - something admirable, if it were any other fucking day. Not day - month maybe. Still, who says he should care about him? Leilan had not really, actually wanted to hurt him with the frostbite-cold aura that surrounds him, having stopped and yelled at the blue one. But if he doesn't care, then Leilan doesn't care either.

    He'll go through.

    With a snort, he dismisses whatever the man is trying to say; Leilan doesn't properly let him finish, has no time to consider the fact that yes, this man's calm might be irritating - but the roan is already angry, so a little bit of irritation is a mosquito in a typhoon; nothing really. Really nothing.

    There's something about naps and children in there, but by now, the roan is pushing forward already, ears pinned down. His frosty aura is certain to cause the man some pain should he try to bite - lips are sensitive, more so than skin and even that could on prolonged touch be damaged. He's set on continuing the path he'd originally intended, so if the other stallion doesn't move an inch, then that means that he's just going to be shoved until he does, probably hurting similar as when touched by something hot - the bay roan is ice-like today. Colder even.

    Turns out he doesn't care about the children.
    the battle's won, but the child is lost


    @Raed

    edited for readability
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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    Reply
    #5

    I’ll break you a hundred different ways
    and I’ll make you remember my face - - -


    Unbearable patience is one of Raed’s many virtues, but once a senseless creature tries to use whatever trait the universe has granted them in a manner with the intent to physically harm, well, that changed things a bit. His own powers were not meant to be used against anyone else, save for the mind reading, but even that he rarely used. At this point in his life he had complete control over it, switching it on and off like a dial, and more often than not, it was off. He truthfully had little interest in what others were thinking. For the most part it was terribly boring. The problem with everyone in Beqanna is they all found their own lives to be incredibly interesting, and often thought themselves far too important. Little did they know that every other horse in the meadow was thinking and feeling the exact same thing.

    No one was as special as they liked to think.

    As a prey animal, every horse is ingrained with a fight or flight instinct. It is a hair-trigger reflex, one that takes almost no effort to pick one or the other. Without it, they would have been extinct a long time ago. For the most part, the residents of Beqanna did not have to rely on it much, since they seemed to have evolved into another species entirely, but it’s there. And so the instant the stranger makes a move into his space, he spins, his ears disappearing into the tangled mess of mane.  In a split-second he sends a full-force kick at the stallion’s direction, and while his legs slid through the frost aura and he felt the pinpricks of the cold, it’s hardly unbearable. Frost was cold, and most likely if he sat there and leaned constant contact into the aura it would hurt, but kicking at him was no different than stepping into glacier-melted water. It may be uncomfortable, but it’s not going to cause lasting damage unless he submerged himself into it.

    Anyone that has been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of an equine kick can vouch for how suddenly it happens, and the element of surprise is all he’s really going for. He only turns part way now, his muscles pulled taut beneath the brightly colored pelt, prepared for whatever the stallion may do in response. Deftly, he reaches into the depths of the stallion’s mind - flipping through the thoughts like a book. They are fragments, since we rarely walk around and think in whole, narrative sentences, but it is enough for him to get he idea of the source of the stranger’s anger. With  a piercing glare he says snidely, ”Maybe your girlfriend would be more interested in sticking around if you weren’t so busy pouting and damaging the plant-life.”

    R A E D
    the cerulean son of
    trashlip and ryatah


    @[Leilan]
    [Image: Raed.jpg]
    (click for full size)
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    #6

    Leilan
    Demons run,
    but count the cost...
    Friendship dies and true love lies
    Night will fall and the dark will rise
    He's truly gone mad, so he likes to think. Problem is that it is not true, not entirely, but he needs someone to knock some common sense into him. He's on the road to ruin and has been for some time, incapable of caring any longer, it seems. But he's not planning on letting anyone get close enough, get into his head, get anywhere near the truth at all.

    Within the second he makes his intentional move forward, through as it were, the other stallion knows exactly what to do, knocking the air out of his lungs. Raed might be the only one coming close - dangerously so - to pushing where it hurts, to make him stop. And so he stops, for about a second, because the blue-coloured man almost seems to know just what to say or do to make the roan think twice.

    Almost.

    Had only taken more time to analyse the random thoughts, Raed'd have seen that only after she left, he'd gone into 'pouting and damaging the plant-life' mode. Now, it seemed to Leilan as a wild guess, although it rung true enough. Plus, he'd knocked the air out of him earlier; there was enough time to realize there might be a magician of some kind in front of him.

    In the end that's the only thing keeping the bronzing stallion from outright starting to tear off limbs (if he could have reached that). Instead, his teeth snap where his mouth closes from a rough outlet and intake of air, and he bites with nothing but words. "Dig a little deeper next time, ass-hole. She never would anyway."

    He turns around briskly and takes his leave, assuming he won't be followed now that he's not intentionally damaging plant life any more. Or waking up children.
    the battle's won, but the child is lost


    @[Raed] Leilan out, sorry it's such a short thread now, he just felt like giving up somehow
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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