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    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


    i heard there was a secret chord; any
    #1

    I've heard there was a secret chord
    that David played and it pleased the Lord
    but you don't really care for music do you?


    They were rising like a phoenix from the ashes, and Mast couldn’t be happier. Every day it seemed there was a new face amongst them, each one as eager as the last. The spring had brought forth new children, and he knew without a doubt that that is where their future lay. Children were blank slates, untarnished by the darker part of the world outside of the Gates. They would grow up happy and safe, wanting for nothing and learning so many important lessons. Within children there was hope- pure and unyielding hope. He would cling to that notion like a drowning man clinging to a life saver, for if they lost hope, then what did they have?

    The summer sun warmed his mousey brown hide in the most pleasant way. The shifter king found himself dozing near their garden, which he’d been pleased to see was returning to its former glory. Flowers and fruits of every flavor imaginable grew within their garden- he found the pears to be particularly delicious. They were part of the reason for his impromptu nap. The combination of a belly full of sweets and the warm sun had a most hypnotic effect. And so he dozed, his legs curled neatly beneath him. Atop his head were the impressive antlers, though they were still covered in their summertime velvet. Soon he would be rubbing them on every available tree in an effort to rid them of their covering. For now though, they were as soft as spring moss. Just then a cloud rolled in front of the sun, and he found himself climbing to his feet. With a frown he rubbed his antlers against his leg, inwardly and very half heartedly cursing the clouds for interrupting what promised to be a very nice nap.


    M A S T

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    #2

    you and I both know that the house is haunted
    and you and I both know that the ghost is me

    The day was pleasant, and he was thankful for it, wandering the border in what he considered to be his usual rounds. It was calming, in a way, to know that he could take the time and ensure that everyone was safe and sound and no intruders lurked in their presence. Although he was a strong proponent of the open border idea, he knew the dangers as well as anyone. He may advocate for the kingdom to be a haven that did not pass judgement on any who called for sanctuary, it did not mean that he was oblivious to what that meant or could mean for its inhabitants. He simply knew it meant he would have to be even more vigilant.

    Deep in though, he almost did not see Mast, standing and rubbing his antler casually against the fragility of his legs. Altering his course, he made his way toward the shifter-King, coming to a stop several feet away. “Nice to see you, Mast,” his voice was honeyed whiskey, throaty. Nodding in greeting, he glanced at the garden—the magic of which still did not make perfect sense to him. “It is nice to know that the new seasons are bringing growth and life back into the kingdom. It’s nice to know poison does not endure.”

    He had heard stories of that night—the fire that had flared in the sky, the death that had crawled through the roots. It had been an unbalanced fight; more a bully’s display of power than an even match. They had known it too. They had known they marched on a slumbering kingdom and they chose to do it anyway. Cowards. “How have you been?” concern touches his voice as he watches Mast. Heaven knows how the King was living with the responsibility of having Fiasko at the Chamber, but Magnus felt he could at least empathize with him. Although he had not shared his history, he knew all too well the weight of a crown.

    MAGNUS

    once general. once lord. once king.

    © robert bejil photography
    [Image: gqYjsHr.png]
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    #3

    FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES
    CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES


    For once she finds herself a moment of free time. A spare minute when there are no children that cling to her flank, that have the utmost need of her care. That nudged her for sustenance, or required a watchful eye.

    Wichita loved each child very dearly, but she can not remember when she last had a little 'me' time.She'd never ask for it of course, that's not what a lady was supposed to do, not at all. She had young'uns to raise and she did so dutifully-not a kiss or fret spared. However when the opportunity came, she snatched it up quick and set off to find some adult company. It's been a while since she's had any of that, she probably could stand to catch up with the herd. They had been through so much together, she owed them her time, and she wanted them to have it too.

    After a while she's headed to where they all seem to gravitate, the tree, the garden. Slowly the soil had become fertile again, and with it returned the delights of their earth. A little slice of Heaven, and it surely was. The spring had been good to them, the summer would only bring more promise.

    The little mare isn't surprised to see both Mast and Magnus already there, greeting them with a warm smile, and a honeyed hello. "How do gentleman?" she drawls, a sincere glint of warmth and hospitality in her chocolate eyes. Wichita then dips her head to  sniff at the returned fruits, daintily lipping at some berries. They burst like fireworks of flavor in her mouth, both sweet and sour at the same time, and she clenches her jaw.

    Wichita
    gentle southern belle of Heaven's Gates
    Reply
    #4

    I've heard there was a secret chord
    that David played and it pleased the Lord
    but you don't really care for music do you?


    Sometimes, when his mind was empty and calm, he could still smell remnants of smoke. Sometimes, he could still hear the screams in the forest. Sometimes, he couldn’t forgive himself for having not done more. Not that he could have done anymore than what he did of course, but the pangs of guilt still nipped at the back of his mind. And now here they stood, staring off the brink and into a oncoming war. It wasn’t necessarily what the gray king wanted, but he was smart enough to know it was unavoidable. They would prepare accordingly, and this time not be left to ebb in the wake of the ship. Their kingdom was growing, they had at least one ally at their back, and most of all they had heart.

    The day was so pleasant he almost forgot himself. He almost forgot the stress the weight of a crown could bring, the stress of raising a wild daughter…all of it, almost. It was impossible to block it out completely, but he didn’t mind trying. It wasn’t hard, with the sun shining on his back and his belly full of pears. The sound of hooves caught his attention, and he raised his head sharply. His deer instincts were much easier to startle than those of his true, equine self. Fortunately, it was not danger that approached. A small smile crossed his mouth before he shifted back, replacing the whitetail with his normal, gray form. “Magnus, the pleasure is mine.” he said, dipping his head in a return greeting. He followed the buckskins gaze, his own eyes sweeping over their magic garden. Even as king he didn’t know all of its secrets, nor would he pretend to. Some things were better left a mystery, after all. “Indeed. The darkness can only remain so long as there is no light. The Chamber will never understand these things.” The gray king shook his head, his voice soft. “To answer your question though, I’m well I suppose. An invisible crown is surprisingly heavy though.” he said, though it ended in a laugh. Before he could continue a new face emerged, and he smiled as he watched her approach. “The lovely Wichita. How are you on this lovely day?” he asked, his eyes bright. With a contented sigh he cocked a hind leg, relaxing beneath the sunshine and in the company of two of his most valued kingdom mates.



    M A S T

    Reply
    #5

    you and I both know that the house is haunted
    and you and I both know that the ghost is me

    The two of them were not alone for long before Wichita joined. Magnus inclined his wide, handsome head toward her, giving her a gentle smile. He had not interacted much with the southern lady, but he had seen her from afar—always accompanied by at least one or two foals. He could appreciate a mare who had a heart for family, and he could think of no better place to raise a family than the Gates. While he may not be the sterling example of a father, he considered it his responsibility to keep the kingdom safe for her and her brood. He may not be a white knight, but that much he could do for them.

    “Hello there, Wichita,” his voice was smooth and deep as whiskey, ringing up from his chest. “It’s nice to see you.” He brings his gold-flecked eyes back to the King. He respected Mast and was happy to serve in the kingdom underneath his reign. He was glad for it. Magnus had spent far too much time around Kings and Queens who did not truly care for their kingdom; he had spent far too much time with individuals who simply wore the crown for the shine of it. Mast was not one of those horses. He understood the weight of the crown. He understood that to rule a kingdom, you must serve it first and foremost.

    He was the type of King that Magnus could get behind.
    He was the type of King that Magnus would die for.

    At his words, Magnus just nods and gives a choked laugh. “No, they will never understand.” He looks toward the border, “But that won’t stop them from doing their best to choke out the last bit of light.” His eyes are hard and his smile sharp when he looks back, “We won’t let them.” Not while he had a breath in his body; not while he had blood pumping through his veins. He would do everything within his power to keep the Gates a free and happy land. “Is there anything I can do to help with that weight?” He knew it was a heavy burden—and one Mast would have to carry by himself, but that did not stop him from offering.

    Even if there was a small way of alleviating the weight, he would try.

    MAGNUS

    once general. once lord. once king.

    © robert bejil photography
    [Image: gqYjsHr.png]
    Reply
    #6

    I've heard there was a secret chord
    that David played and it pleased the Lord
    but you don't really care for music do you?


    The kingdom had a way of knowing what he needed before he could even ask for it.

    There was a strange magic that flowed through the lands, fueled in part by their own brave hearts and ironclad bonds. Their magic was pure as the new fallen snow, but few understood it, and certainly the Chamber didn’t understand it. They understood violence and bloodshed. They would never understand pure hearts.

    Here they stood, possibly on the brink of war. They stood together, a small trio of individuals sharing the same minds and ideologies that the foundation of the Gates was built on. Mast was no fool; he knew that he couldn’t do it alone. He was also not so arrogant that he would even try. The good of his kingdom depended on his own humbleness, and thankfully he had that in spades. Never once since he had taken the crown had he fashioned himself into some invincible being who could rule alone. A ships captain was only as good as his crew. He could not steer their vessel through rough seas without capable shipmen to help hold the helm and man the sails.

    “Magnus, its funny that you should ask.” he started, raising his head and squaring his stance. His voice was proud, proud of them and all of their kingdom mates. “Magnus, Wichita, I have something to ask of you both. I would like both of you to take the head of your respective castes. General and Governor, respectively. Wichita, I’m also blessing you with the power of Empathy.” he paused, watching their reactions. He knew that perhaps he was asking them to take on responsibilities of which they had no desire to take on. He was also trusting that they would voice their concerns to him, and let him know if he was asking too much. “Furthermore, I’d like you to become Lord and Lady. I fear we are nearing troubled times, and I will need all the help I can get. You two have become some of my most trusted kingdom mates, and I highly value your opinions and insight. I cannot do this alone, and nor would I even try. I owe it to our kingdom and to you all to ask for help where I can get it. And you two have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that you have this kingdoms best interests at heart. So what do you say? Will you stand beside me as not only my most trusted advisors, but friends as well?” he finished, his eyes bright and hopeful. The magic of the kingdom had told him there was no better options, and now it was up to them as to whether or not they accepted the challenges that lay ahead.



    M A S T




    ooc - sorry for jumping ahead, but i wanted to get this up before the hoopla of the holidays gets in full swing!
    Reply
    #7

    FAMILIAR BREATH OF MY OLD LIES
    CHANGED THE COLOR IN MY EYES


    Her lips pursed. A berry crisps in her mouth, spilling a juice that is much too tart. She squints her eyes for a moment, shooing away the surprise. When she opens them again, the conversation has continued, one of greetings. “Hello, it’s nice to see y’all. She returns politely, her ears perking forward to catch wisps of their conversation. Choking out light, her dark, silvered-ears fall at that. She doesn’t have to ask what they have been talking about to know.

    It’s like she’s been on Mother hen alert since that fateful day, because she could not bear to fail her children. Though when it came down to it she did not know what she would do to save them, likely the same her own Dam had done, so many years ago. She would without question throw herself at the mercy of the fire, if only to give her younglings a chance to run. Whatever would befall the Gates, her children did not deserve to suffer a foul fate.

    She listens quietly as Magnus offers the King his help, his own strong shoulders to aid with the burden. A solemn veil falls to her face, Mast had not inherited a strong Kingdom per se, more like one filled with broken and weary things. He had been left to attempt to pick up their pieces, to put them back together the best he could with just his two hands.

    It’s surprise that jolts her heart, something asked of her that she did not expect. Head the peace caste? Could she do that?

    There was no doubt in her mind that Magnus could successfully lead the army, he was an able soldier, and dedicated. She was, just Wichita. Just a little mare, with heaps of children to fill her heart and her time. But she supposed she wasn’t suited for many other positions either. She’s trembling, but she nods once. “All righ’ “ she says in a breathy tone, eyes falling to the ground. The King is not done though, Empathy , he says. Such a gift, would be an important tool to use for the days to come. Lady, the titles, gifts, forever spill from his cloudy mouth. She doesn’t know if she deserves so much, she felt she had done so little for the home that had welcomed her. The home that had soothed her spirit, healed her body, given her some shred of hope for the future.

    Her breath comes quickly, her mind racing, and it isn’t until he finishes that she left her head. Cocoa eyes glistening in tears, she was valued, she was worthy, she was a friend. She could, she could do this for their home, for her friends and her family. Forgetting herself she pulls forward, butting her head against the Kings shoulder, with a sniffling answer. “I will help ya Mast, I will help our home, and our friends.” She’s just as happy as a clam, pulling back and blinking away her tears. She turns to Magnus with a bright smile, simply beaming for them both.

    Wichita
    gentle southern belle of Heaven's Gates


    ooc-no worries. Wichita is being a stingy little stink with her words lately xD
    Reply
    #8

    you and I both know that the house is haunted
    and you and I both know that the ghost is me

    In the back of his head, Magnus feels as if he had watched this all happen before. He is watching Mast intently with black-tipped ears perked, but he is seeing Liefde—he is seeing Joelle. In his mind, he is remembering when that same offer had been given to him before, lead the Gates army, and his mouth pulls into a thoughtful frown. Glancing upward toward the skies, he has to wonder if Joelle is watching over them and laughing; she had always known just how difficult it was to fit in here. She must be thoroughly enjoying herself watch history repeat itself, but without her there to soothe the burden.

    One corner of his mouth quirks as he remembers the sound of her laugh, and he lifts his gold-flecked eyes to that of Mast. “I would be honored.” Titles in and of themselves had never mattered overly much to him, but he had known that they were tools—powerful ones. It was one thing to travel to a neighboring kingdom as a soldier, but it was another to travel as General and Lord. Magnus did not need the titles to bloat his own sense of self, but he did appreciate the ability to wield them when necessary. It also gave him the leeway he craved to better protect this kingdom; he never was good at curbing his enthusiasm.

    Nodding, he watched with a ghost of a smile at Wichita’s reaction. She was a sweet mare, one who seemed to embody much of the traits most beloved in Gates residents, and he was glad for it. If they were to have a head of peace and a Lady, she seemed suited for the job. Perhaps the softness of her nature would help to temper the sharp edges of his own. It would do no good for Mast to place a warmonger in the position of General without some other counterweight to balance his own hunger of bloodshed.

    “You know, I don’t think I ever told you that I lived here before,” he muses, eyes far away as he looked to the land unfolding around them. The dips and crevices were as familiar as the back of one’s hand and yet entirely foreign, the decades washing them into alien patterns. “It’s been nice to be back.” His features turn a little more somber, “I’m grateful that you have given me a chance to serve the kingdom again.”

    MAGNUS

    once general. once lord. once king.

    © robert bejil photography
    [Image: gqYjsHr.png]
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