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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


    but a wise man knows himself a fool; any
    #1

    a wise man knows himself a fool.

    Fennick could not help but feel that his first day in the Valley had not gone very well. He had interrupted a very private coup. However, things could have been worse. He wasn’t sure how, but things could always get worse.  As it was, he was here now, and certainly couldn’t go back now.

    Fennick may be a fool, but he was a constant fool.

    The world at large may have called him every nasty name in the book, but fickle had never been one of them. He fully intended to cling to the last shred of dignity that he had. Besides, if he left now he would have to try again somewhere else. This would just keep happening again and again.

    It took a true master of words to make introductions anything less than hideously awkward. And Fennick was not that. Besides, in the face of a mutiny, surely everyone’s attention would be on the mutineers, rather than the guy who crashed the party at just the wrong moment.

    Yes, Fennick was feeling better by the minute.

    He walked around his new home, stretching his legs, and trying to muster up a sense of belonging. He had heard stories about great stallions who changed the world with their wisdom, might and power.

    If Fennick was going to do any world changing he would have to do it in a way that allowed him to keep his mouth shut. Nothing ever good came from his accursed, indiscreet mouth. A fighter then! The black stallion smiled to himself, pleased. He was a rather large son of a bitch. No matter that he had never raised a hoof in anger his whole life, he could learn.

    He was terrible, but he wasn’t cowardly.

    Besides, Fennick couldn’t even remember the last time he had stumbled, so not clumsy then. Yes, things were looking up. There was very little a solider could do to screw up a whole army, or at least, that’s what he was counting on.

    Fennick

    #2
    you say I'm crazy, but I think I'm freaking amazing.
    I had decided to take my afternoon walk through the forest after the meeting had gone it's separate ways. It hadn't taken long before he had come across the dark boy who had so brightly interrupted the kingdom meeting with his wails of discontent and unhappiness at coming across something that didn't add up with his plans. Thought what those plans were, I wasn't entirely sure and a small curiosity had piqued at the back of my mind. For a while I follow him at a distance, stalking him with silent footsteps as I weave around and through the trees of the thick forest, until finally I quicken my pace.

    My footsteps are no longer silent, and the soft sound of my wings brushing against the trees fill the air until finally I step up beside him, walking in tune with the boys steps the way soldiers do until finally I glance over, lips pressed in a thoughtful line. "Hello," my voice is quiet and gruff, barely heard over the breeze that ran it's way gently through the forests canopy and made the trees rustle gently. "Fennick was it?" I pause then, allowing him enough time to respond before I come to a stop and look at him with a curious gaze, head tilted just barely to the left as I stood tall and confident amongst the trees.

    The soft orange glow of my cat like spots surrounded the both of us in a gentle light. "What was with the small outburst earlier? Why do you seem so unsure of yourself?" So many questions, I know. But I couldn't help but seek the answers to the questions that probed my mind since the moment Fennick had stumbled upon their small gathering. And even though the boy had been awkward then, and I brought up such things. That didn't mean I didn't notice the small changes. The way he carried himself better just a little taller. The way the stutter in his steps seemed to have smoothed out mostly. And most importantly how his mood had improved most significantly.

    It showed promise. And maybe that was why the jaguar king was so curious about the awkward boy. And this is where I choose to wait for the boy to speak. Giving him time to answer me in the ways he felt best.

    demian

    carnage x adalind

    #3

    a wise man knows himself a fool.

    Fennick, for his many, many faults, was a naturally contented beast. As long as he was by himself, not talking to anyone or being observed at all, he was usually quite pleased. Truly, this was a blessing, for otherwise he would be in constant agony. He wasn’t shy per say, but only because he wasn’t a school girl.

    What was the term for someone who didn’t enjoy the company of others? An ass? Well no, he wasn’t that.

    So when Demian walked up Fennick wasn’t exactly unhappy but he did get a sinking feeling in his gut well known by those who were used to making an ass out of themselves in pubic. You know, that twisting, cringing feeling that you get in your gut, the one that makes you want to squirm uncomfortably until the other person leaves. But, when they do leave you feel kind of bad because you didn’t actually dislike them and wanted them to like you. You just didn’t want to have to talk to them to accomplish it. 


    You know, that feeling.


    Fennick did his best to school his face into pacificity and tried to look interested. Not at all concerned, not at all like he had been caught doing something embarrassing. He hadn’t even been doing anything embarrassing.

    “Erm, hello.” He said intelligently. Fennick had always been of the opinion that grown men shouldn’t participate in small talk. In reality, he was of the opinion that nobody should participate in small talk. In his most stubborn moments, he briefly convinced himself that it was that belief that prevented him from participating in most conversations. 


    He was standing up for what he believed in.

    Fennick smiled ruefully when Demian brought up his little outburst at the meeting. Perhaps he should rethink his unforgiving stance on small talk. Surely the weather was more pleasant than having to explain that.

    “Remember that, do you?” Fennick said it almost accusingly, as if it was Demian's fault for remembering it, rather than Fennick’s fault for doing it. But still, his words didn’t hold any real bite, and the rueful smile had managed to fix itself on his face. Perhaps it would just be permanent. A permanent look of resigned regret. How appropriate.

    “It was nothing,” he said with an attempt at breeziness, “I sometimes do that, come in at exactly the wrong moment.” What he wanted to say was, “I sometimes do that, have a seizure during conversation.” Or, alternatively, “I sometimes do that, embarrass myself and others.” But really, nobody wanted to hear that, and an optimistic spin to things was part of the social contract. You were required to make up bullshit to make yourself and others less uncomfortable. Fennick was eager to change the topic, so he did so, in a stroke of political subtly and grace.

    “How’s that going for you? Being king and all?” What else, exactly, did you say to a king? Especially a king that had just recently overthrown the former king.  Fennick decided that was as good as anything else he could say, better probably.

    Fennick

    #4
    " you say I'm crazy, but I think I'm freaking amazing. "
    "I do," a small smile tugs at the corner of my dark gray lips as I realize exactly what he was trying to do. Trying to pass the blame onto myself was almost a classic move, something even I might of tried back in the day when I didn't know how to control my own social anxiety. The only reason I was able to realize it though was because I had at this point in my time lived a very long twenty five years. Which in reality would be a short time for someone like me.

    I was blessed, or some would even say cursed, by the god's with the gift of immortality. I could die, but only by the most extreme of measures and as there were so few who could commit such acts successfully... It most likely wouldn't be something that would come around as an option for quite a while. Not to say that I wasn't alright with the idea. As a child the idea of a life without the threat of death or illness was quite spectacular. Not only that, I had been amazingly tempted by the thought of an unusually long life full of experience and adventure and it is what had chased the shock and fear of possibly living until the end of time away from my mind.

    I had come to enjoy the idea of seeing the generations come and go. Sometimes I had even come to wonder what my life would have been like had I not been gifted with immortality. Though I would soon realize I didn't care. I was who I was and I didn't wish any different. My mother, Adalind, had taught me to be proud of my differences. Whether or not that was because of the fact she found me special simply for my traits wasn't really an issue. She had still been able to teach me an important life lesson... To appreciate my differences and be confident in myself.

    "I would say you came in at the right moment actually." I allow myself to smile a bit more and I watch him with growing interest and curiosity. I had never seen someone so awkward and dare I say, it was quite interesting to watch. You could so easily turn a conversation in any direction when it came to the socially awkward, you just had to know how to handle it. "One learns a lot, Fennick, by observation of even the smallest events. It provides you with personal knowledge of situations that others may one day seek after or provide great stories to enable conversation when there is nothing else to talk about."

    Pressing my lips together I pause for a time in order to allow the younger boy to mull over my words. The silence only as long as Fennicks and pricking my ears at his questions, I chuckle slightly out of amusement before rolling my shoulders in a slight shrug. "I can't say I'm sure yet. I haven't had a chance to get used to it. I still feel the same though, just with an added amount of responsibility and new determination. I have to say it's also upped my levels of ambition. And everyone seems to be taking the transition smoothly." Smiling a bit more, I find myself looking up at the forest's canopy before slowly looking down and around at our surroundings. "How do you like it here though Fennick? Do you find the Valley to your liking?"

    demian

    carnage x adalind

    #5

    the darkest nights produce the brightest stars

    Fennick listened to Demian with growing levels of alarm. The king seemed rather young, both to be a king and to dispense life advice like candy. He was under the impression that they were the same age, though that didn’t mean much in particular. He had wondered, for a while now, how one achieved the appearance of wisdom. He’d met many his own age who acted like they had seen the dawn of time. Fennick felt a little left out. He felt like an overgrown child. Of course, he had been in these lands long enough to know appearances could be deceiving. After all, his own father appeared to be a whale.

    Fennick had to suppress a sigh. That explained so much.

    While he felt like an overgrown child, he was rather large, even for an adult. It was one of the things he had going for him, brute strength. It would make him a credible member of the army. Of course, he was the type to apologize to a spider before crushing it, then changing his mind at the last moment and reluctantly let it go. Perhaps not so credible then. Fennick, tried to keep his mind on the conversation. It was difficult, not to curl in on yourself like a snail.

    As per Demian’s insistence, he tried to imagine how he possibly could have come in at the right time.

    “I…suppose, if you wish to look at it that way you could. There were several job vacancies available to a newcomer.”
    He cast Demian an assessing look. Then cracked a slow, self-conscious smile.

    “Like king, for example.” Fennick couldn’t really be sure what he was doing. Was he trying to be rude? Like some sort or bizarre defense mechanism? Perhaps, but still, it was a little funny, so he let the smile remain, hesitant but triumphant, like a colt standing on wobbling legs. He listened to Demian with what he hoped was an impassive expression. The stallion was not wrong. There were benefits to being a good observer, yet Fennick lived too much in his head to do his eyes much justice. He shrugged dismissively, as if the idea had occurred to him but didn’t really appeal. Was it better to be disinclined or unfit? Either choice was perilous, and the real danger was to be both.

    “It’s good that you’re the king then, and I’m just a solider. I’ve never been much of a storyteller I’m afraid.” Truly, he did not join the army to slack a bloodlust. Fighting was easy, or at least, could become easy. No amount of practice would teach him a verbal parry. Yet, even Fennick knew to get out of the way when someone was trying to crack him over the head. Demian, however, seemed rather suited to conversation, and Fennick was all the more glad of it. Some birds were made to fly and some were made to walk the earth. However, despite his insistence to the contrary, Fennick found himself drawn into the conversation.

    “You find yourself all the more ambitious for kingship? What is there to aspire to? Surely you can only rule a single kingdom…” Fennick let himself trail off, for what did he know? There had been conquerors before. Anyway, it was not his problem.

    “It is well enough. I’d like to stay and make myself useful.” It was about as much as could be gotten out of him. He didn’t know this place, but he did want to be useful. And there were things he could do. Fennick felt them nagging at the back of his mind, all the ways he could be useful, he just hadn’t discovered them yet.

    Oh well, there was no avoiding it now.

    Fennick
    Whale x Rea
    #6
    i scrounge in the dark, digging up old memories of you and me
    Demian was much older than he appeared to be. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. He had hidden in the shadows for so long though that he could easily understand how other's may have thought as much. He had already surpassed a quarter of a century with an almost graceful flow through time and there were times where he still felt like he had the strength and mind of a young child and those moments were the ones he held onto. Enjoying them until they passed. For there was nothing like getting to feel the rush of youth at the times you missed it most.

    It's when Fennick starts to speak again that Demian blinks slightly before allowing his the corners of his lips to curl into a slightly amused smile. "Why yes, you could say there were quite a few. There still are." That was the disappointing fact about revivals. Sometimes they took longer than you planned to regain activity. Though even the smallest of activity was considered thriving in Beqanna it seemed. But Demian wanted more for the Valley and it's members. He saw more for them. He saw the greatness that was laying within the shadows and patiently waiting to reveal itself.

    Taking a step to the left he looked back out amongst the trees, thinking over Fennick's words and continuing to listen. It's when his little snippet pops forward that Demian looks back at the younger boy before laughing softly in amusement. You could say it was a relief to talk to someone so bold. "It was  a job that needed to be done by someone. But not for long. Just long enough to find the right one to take their place. I am in no way after power or have the desire to keep it. My desires are truly to find someone who is worthy of the Valley to take my place and when I do, I shall leave the throne to them."

    The jaguar king rolls his shoulders in a slight shrug as his wings stretch slightly, revealing more of his glowing orange spots, and then press back to his sides comfortably. "And you never know. There have been many kings and queens in history that weren't much good at conversation. Not every ruler has a streak for diplomacy." Though it did help. You did have to know when to bite your tongue and settle disputes. Otherwise you could surrender your kingdom to problems that would leave negative and lasting results in the long run. "And it's that that I find myself more ambitious towards kingship... I'm hoping this is my only rule in my lifetime. I just meant that I find myself more ambitious in the ways of helping our kingdom and building it in the ways it needs most."

    His words are genuine as he speaks them. He doesn't want more in the ways of power. Now was not a time in history to seek after too much. Things were too quiet, and there was something stirring along in the air. Silent whispers of things to come. What they were though, Demian wasn't sure. He just knew now was the best time to focus on rebuilding the Valley and making it the strongest it could be. "Well I am glad to hear that. I think you will be of much use to us Fennick, and I think you hold a variety of potential."

    It was the first time Demian had ever complimented someone's potential outloud, even if it was very simply. He was the type that was always able to see the potential in everyone, but very rarely did he see it enough to speak of it. I guess you could say he genuinely liked Fennick and his bold nature. Which was more than he could say about most.

    demian

    #7

    the darkest nights produce the brightest stars

    Fennick didn’t know why he did half the things he does. It appeared  to be an uncontrollable impulse to embarrass himself that overrode his otherwise good judgement and common sense. Like when he opened that damn sphere in the woods. He needed to open it, and he had. Yet, now he couldn’t help the feeling that he was Fennick no longer, and in the place of Fennick was a giant blob of grape jelly vaguely molded to look like a horse.

    The only upside was that he was so entirely ridiculous that he found embarrassment all but failed him.

    Perhaps, because he would totally shammed, he could speak to Demian a little easier. Or perhaps he was just warming up to his monarch. After all, even Fennick could see that he had been very nearly rude, and Demian was still here, willing to spend precious moments talking to his most humble, and bizarre, of subjects. He smiled hesitantly, and instantly the stallion goes from black to a charming, delicate shade of pink. Good lord, is this how he blushes now?

    “Yes..erm..and on that subject I would rather like you thank you.” Fennick coughed awkwardly and tried to turn himself black again. He had but mild success.

    "For my job, that is.” He is unreasonably proud, of being promoted to fidais. It is not the grandest position, to be sure, but Fennick is not that grand a man. Besides, nobody had ever seen any potential in him before. Surely, that was what Demian saw, at least in some small measure, and Fennick still couldn’t quite believe it.  

    That bit of awkwardness out of the way, Fennick tried to follow Demian’s conversation. They were wading into the waters of political maneuvering, and in those waters Fennick found himself a weak swimmer covered in fish blood. Any minute the sharks would come to devour him. But, they did not. He did, however, momentarily turn into a fish. The once horse, now fish, gasps frantically for breath, gills flapping wildly, until he managed to turn back into a horse. When he did, he was ragged looking, tired around the edges. He cast a wary, embarrassed look at Demian.

    “Politics, I must admit, make me feel like a fish out of water.” Fennick paused in his conversation to let that sink in. When he was convinced that yes, he really did just do that, and then say that, he continued.

    “It seems like an awful amount of work, to first gain kingship only to recruit a replacement and give it up again. What if one does not appear? Perhaps you could have a son, and hoist the responsibility off on him once he shows potential. We’d have to find him a suitable mother of course…” He looked at Demian through narrowed eyes, as if squinting at him would help make Demian’s purpose more clear. Again, Fennick is not sure if what he is saying is abominably rude. Nor does he mean to imply that he intends to set Demian up with a lady he considered suitable. The whole idea, is perhaps as absurd as Fennick himself. To try and salvage the situation, Fennick continued.

    “It seems a thankless job, you’re quite right to want to be rid of it. Only, you did such a fine job of acquiring it.” He was babbling a little bit, and he hoped Demian would forgive him for it, he just waned to get all the words out before he turned into something that couldn’t speak. Fennick briefly considered that, should he actually intend to be Demian’s wingman in the begetting of a royal son, he would have to up his game considerably.

    Fennick was still trying to think of some eloquent way to express himself when Demian complimented him, and the large stallion stiffened a little, trying to keep himself from turning that delicate shade of pink. He was rather flattered.

    “Well thank you sir. I hope I won’t too quickly prove your confidence misplaced.” Thankfully, mercifully, his mouth decided to stop there. It is the best outcome that could hoped for, for him to both maintain his shape and not say another word that might prove dreadfully embarrassing.

    Fennick
    Whale and Rea's amorphous, ever-changing son




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