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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]  give me something to believe in; any
    #1

    Kensa



    The young woman's arrival in Beqanna was inauspicious. She came because she desired to and there was no other explanation of value. One day she was somewhere else and the next she was here, in a field occupied in part by strangers who were new arrivals themselves. Other occupants, those who seemed less lost, she assumed were residents of the surrounding area come to collect (or at least take their amusement from) the aliens. There had been a place like this in the country in which she had grown up, though she had never been there. These places set aside for the homeless (either magically or by general decree) were usually rather unsavory and not appropriate venues for young single females--unless they were looking for trouble. She was old enough to 'look for trouble' these days but it was winter, and most people were keeping their trousers on. 

    There were likely better times to come to Beqanna than in the dead of winter. Kensa found everything to be stark and ugly, the snow graying and no longer fresh beneath her hooves though it began to fall in fat reluctant flakes as the afternoon wore on. Winter was aging out and the second half of the season always grew insipid and ugly before finally giving up the ghost to spring. 

    Kensa came to the central part of the field and paused there to take in the panorama of scenery and the other persons in it. She understood the way this worked. Someone would come along and try to bring her home with them. Whoever that was would likely be interesting in one way or another, everyone had something interesting to show her--or to hide from her. Until now her life had been particularly uneventful, underwhelming even.  Her book was blank and she had pages to fill with all manner of joy, pain, goodness, and debauchery.  

    The bold set of her head and her watchful eyes invited approach, her complexion like molten-chocolate in the broken sunlight. For a moment her confidence wavered--she was a newcomer here, another unknown among a dozen other unknowns. Why should  anyone notice her? She could stand here until she turns to dust without anyone every learning the two syllables of her name. 
    She squashes the thought shaking it out of her head like she would flick a fly from her ear. Life would wash her in its glow or she would crawl into it's den and drag it out with her teeth.

    give me something to believe in


    Reply
    #2

    I kept my hope just like i'd hoped to
    then sang to the sea for feelings deep blue

    Were the season any different, he still would not have come with any different intent; at least, he firmly believes that in his youth. Nearing his first full year of life, the little Hyalinian prince has reached his full height - fifteen point two hands - but is grievously lacking in the developed musculature department. The scrawniness of his shoulders are more cliffs than they are slopes, and it is to be hoped that he'll grow into his neck, or else he'd just never look quite right. But for the yearling that he is, he is gorgeous: crisp in the novelty of youth, the harsh angles of his boyish features forgiven for the fact that his life, for now, waxed simplicity.

    His dappled golden figure stands out subtly against the grey-white of winter's flattened snow, but in this moment, he's glad to not be a flamboyant colour as many these days are. There's a lump in his throat (as if there's ever a time when there's not) and a hammering of his heart that leaves him dizzy, wondering if he made the right decision in coming here. But then he remembers his uncle Rodrik, and his grandpa Kavi, and his great grandpa, after whom he was named... When he remembers Rhaego, the vertigo ceases. His vision clears - and yes, his visions of the future clear, too.

    Breathing more evenly now, the dark-winged pegasus sent his brown eyes out across the field, in search of one who seemed... forgiving and gentle in nature. Some of the current inhabitants were male, and the boy balked at the thought of approaching them; he'd had plenty of male involvement in his life despite being raised by two Queens, but he still denies himself the potential humiliation - and even danger - that came with approaching another of his gender. Could he explain himself, things would be very different; but as they stand, Rhae finds himself much more comfortable in the sweeter company of women.

    Not that he expects all women to be sweet by any means. Mother's scar, Will's bad assery, and Mother's stubbornness are evidence enough to that fact! Still, when his ashy brown eyes alight on the little liver chestnut mustang situated in the center of the field, he couldn't help but feel called to the way her watchful eyes blinked a silent invitation. Perhaps she wouldn't mind a silent approacher then - before he could talk himself out of it (hah) he struck out, walking on the stilts of his legs until he finds himself just on the outside of her bubble.

    God, how I wish I could speak.

    Allowing his most friendly smile to spread his lips, the gangling prince took a calculated step forward, extending his neck and nose until it touches softly against the mare's. He does his best to hold her gaze, keeping his eyes wide and welcoming. After a gentle exchange of breath, Rhaegor steps back, again leaving a polite amount of space between them.

    What now you idiot.

    Wanting to act quickly before some herd stallion came and showed him his place, Rhaegor grapples onto the first idea that comes to him. Clearing his throat and looking pointedly at a patch of fresh snow that happens to be right in front of them, he emits a beam of light just powerful enough to melt said snow; and in a matter of seconds, a surprisingly decent rendition of mountains sat there for her viewership.

    Looking at her and hoping she'll understand, the colt then looks pointedly north-west; that's where I'm from, he tries to say with his eyes when they once again find hers. From the mountains, from Hyaline.

    Rhaegor
    [Image: rhae]
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    #3
    magnus

    howling ghosts, they reappear
    in mountains that are stacked with fear

    The day is cold, even for winter in Beqanna, and Magnus watches as his breath plumes in front of him. As a stallion born and raised in the jungle and who now calls the volcanic island home, it is a sharp change in temperature. He was used to and made for the humidity. He was made for the air that you could feel as you breathed, warming your throat and settling into your lungs. His thin-skinned coat was designed to help him lose heat quickly—and he was happier when he was slick with sweat instead of shivering cold.

    Still, there are things worth braving the bitter wind, and helping others find a home is one of them.

    For the most part, the day has been devoid of companionship. The field was in one of its lulls, and although he saw a few horses here and there, it was mostly just those passing through on their way to something and somewhere else. So when he sees the pair of them, the young colt and the calm-eyed mare, his smile deepens, his gold-flecked eyes brightening as he angles his path to make his way toward them.

    He arrives in time to watch the colt draw his vision into the snow and Magnus smiles, nodding with encouragement at the other. “Clever,” he remarks, glancing up and finding the other’s gaze. He doesn’t know exactly why he has restored to drawing instead of speaking, but he can imagine. He looks toward the mare, his smile crooked. “I believe he’s showing you a picture of home.” His gaze slides back over to the colt as if affirming the statement. “One of the more mountainous regions, I’m assuming.”

    He pauses to think, ticking through the lands in his head. “Perhaps, Loess?” He watches the other, hoping to see a sign that he has landed on the right name. “Or Hyaline?” Both were new to him, unveiled to Beqanna during his absence, and he can only pull on overheard conversation to piece together his guesses.

    Still, he doesn’t mind the guess game, or doing what he can to fill in the gaps—so much so that he almost forgets to introduce himself entirely. “Ah, apologies.” Another charming grin, whiskey voice hoarse from the disuse and the cold. “My name is Magnus, and I’m from Tephra.”

    but you're a king and I'm a lionheart

    [Image: gqYjsHr.png]
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    #4

    Kensa


    Kensa did not wait long for company and found her worries about going unnoticed evaporated completely. The boy who made his way over to her was taller already than she but the mismatched proportions of youth quickly gave him away as a juvenile. She let her gaze settle on him as he drew nearer, her interest piqued. When he extended his muzzle toward her own she met him part of the way, the steam of their breath mingling as they exchanged these greetings. "Hello." She added softly, curiously, charmed by the colt who remained quiet following this exchange and when she spoke she did so without condescension or wariness. 

    He seemed to be at a loss for a brief period and she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again when in a flash of light he created a miniature landscape before them in the snow. Her toffee eyes, wide, flicked between the snowy sculpture and the colt quickly, and then followed his gaze toward the mountain ranges in the distance. "Oh!" She exclaimed on an exhale, at the same time a full-grown buckskin male approached them.  

    She eyed the stallion carefully at first, uncertain if he would try to chase off the younger male who had found her first. Kensa was already pleased enough by the colt's company to try and prevent that if necessary. Instead, his manner is friendly and he seems impressed by the boy's ingenuity. This warms her to him and she offers a smile before looking back to the colt for confirmation or denial of the buckskin's guesses. She had made all the same conclusions though she knew none of the names of the regions or kingdoms that had drawn their boundaries over this continent. 

    She too had failed any kind of introduction and in her turn spoke quickly to remedy that. Addressing both of them equally in a clear, silvery voice. "Kensa. I'm pleased to meet the both of you." A pause."I know I will find your name in those mountains, do not worry." She added to the colt ensuring the absence of speech on his part would not mean a part of the conversation carried on without him, hoping to convey that she did not find his introduction lacking in anyway. "And Tephra? Where is that?"

    give me something to believe in




    @[Rhaegor]
    @[Magnus]
    Reply
    #5

    I kept my hope just like i'd hoped to
    then sang to the sea for feelings deep blue

    With all the grace of one with a heart of gold, the mare accepts his advances. With a warm exhale, she meets him in the middle, their breath mingling above their heads like a misty crown. Upon withdrawal, the soft utterance of a hello caused a flutter - a near seizure - of Rhaegor's precious, flowering heart. A timid smile builds itself on his dark lips in response, ears perked perfectly forward such that there can be no question as to his pure intentions.

    Just as he finishes his little drawing, another word comes from the mare, and so gentle and kind is its tone that his mouth shudders open and nearly emits sound - for in this moment, he trusts the mustang with his every fiber.

    But then her eyes look over his shoulder, and the vocalization dies before it ever reaches her ears; shutting his mouth and hoping she hadn't noticed, the young man side-stepped closer to the sweet mare, whithers shuddering on the side that Magnus alights, though the flinch is somewhat disguised by the weight of his ash-brown wings.

    Clever, the stallion says, but inside, Rhaegor dies a million deaths. This is exactly what he'd been trying to avoid; but he hides his panic as well as he can (not all that well by any means, but enough) and tries to focus on what the other is trying to say to him. To interpret from him, more specifically. Rhae casts his eyes to the picture, then nods shortly at the mention of home; a sharp shake of his head at Loess; and a big smile when the word Hyaline slipped from Magnus' lips. Grinning boyishly, he tosses his head over to gauge his new friend's reaction; his forelock falls right in his eyes, and he tosses his head again to clear it away.

    Hyaline! Thank you, Magnus. You're not so bad, after all.

    Slowing the hammering of his excited little heart, the colt blinks rapidly and follows the conversation that ensues in his typical silence. Kensa, she announces to be her name, and Rhae finds that he couldn't have dreamt a better name for the mare. What she says next though leaves such a warmth radiating throughout the boy that he can barely contain his joy; and so, in the wake of her implying that she will join him in a journey to Hyaline, the boy steps the last step closer and presses his muzzle to the base of her neck. After a meaningful pause there, he loosely grasps a lock of her mane between his lips and jostles it with a toss of his head, pulling away at last with a dazed grin.

    Thank you, thank you, thank you.

    Needing a moment to compose himself and knowing that, at this point, he really has nothing to contribute to the conversation, Rhaegor steps back. Still, his ears stay carefully tuned on Magnus, eager and respectful of his answer since he'd been key in his own interaction with the lovely Kensa.

    Rhaegor
    [Image: rhae]
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    #6
    magnus

    howling ghosts, they reappear
    in mountains that are stacked with fear

    The difference between the two stallions who stand before Kensa is striking. While Magnus’ body bears all of the familiar markings of youth—his coat and form youthful—there is a gravity to his features, a bruising in his eyes that make it clear he has seen more than his fair share of years. Immortality may preserve the body, but it does not shield the mind, and Magnus’ own is riddled with more scars than his war-hardened hide. So where Rhaegor is beautiful in his innocence, his handsome face fresh and pure, Magnus is saddled with the weight of lifetimes, the guilt and fear and anger resting across his shoulders.

    Still, he recognizes the other stallion’s wariness and concern strikes at him.

    Worried that he had imposed or somehow upset the other stallion, Magnus took a step back, hoping that by opening up the space between them, he would make the interaction somehow easier for the trio.

    When the stallion nods enthusiastically, Mag gives an encouraging smile. “Hyaline,” he confirms, his gaze slipping toward the mare for a moment before focusing on the coltish stallion again. “I have heard many wonderful things about the kingdom, but I have yet to visit it myself.” He breaks the eye contact for a moment to look back toward the mare who was the reason that they had gathered at all.

    “Tephra is a volcanic isle on the tip of Beqanna. It is lush and beautiful and warm,” the last word causes his lacerated lips to tip into a charming, crooked smile, humor glinting in his gold-flecked eyes.

    For a moment, he is silent, considering the pair and the odd predicament that they find themselves in.

    “I have always found that seeing is a thousand times better than listening to someone ramble on about their home. Perhaps this would be a conversation that is better had by visiting one or both of the lands.” He looks toward the stallion, waiting for him to confirm. “I would be honored if you let me accompany you on a tour of Hyaline. I have been long overdue for a visit there.” Another smile toward the mare. “And if you wanted to learn more or see Tephra, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

    but you're a king and I'm a lionheart

    [Image: gqYjsHr.png]
    Reply
    #7

    Kensa

    The colt was darling and Kensa was quite taken with him right off. She was still young and inexperienced herself but she recognized the fleeting nature of this hopeful goodness. The world would press in, she knew that much, knew the way the body and mind that she had grown into had remolded her. Magnus likely knew something about that sort of thing. He did not appear much older than her but she sensed the maturity of years upon him, a life lived beneath a youthful skin.

    Any such thoughts were brushed aside as she devoted her full attention to the conversation that ensued between the three of them. The boy's enthusiasm is infectious, she smiles back to him when he responds joyfully to the name of his home. She indicated without hesitation that she would follow him there. How could she do anything but climb up into the cold to get a name for her new friend? His joy brings laughter unbidden from her chocolaty lips and when he pulls back from his playful tossing of her mane she bumps his cheek fondly with her soft muzzle.

    She catches Magnus eyes in turn, attentive to his description of his own home, a soft smile returning in mirror of his own. "I'm not particularly fond of winter myself. " She replied, not sparing a glance for the jagged grayness all around them. "Such a place must be welcome retreat this time of year."  She felt she'd been a little unfair to Magnus then, he had come up into the frosted mainland and bid her welcome and she was all but ready to bid him adieu and ascend to Hyaline. She was in this frame of mind when he suggested they make a tour of Hyaline and she felt a small relief at this.

    "It would be very nice to see both places. I know so little of this land. Of course only if it isn't too much trouble." She looked to her young companion, hoping she wasn't pressing for something that he would be uncomfortable with. It would be up to him, if he did not want to bring the older stallion along she hoped he would indicate this. She could make her way on her own after all. Kensa would happily go along with whatever he decided, but she did want to see both the island and the mountains. She had an innate and passionate desire to fill her life with sensation and this was a new world waiting to be experienced.

    give me something to believe in




    @[Rhaegor]
    @[Magnus]
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