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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


    Bloody Creature Poster Girl
    #1
    All that I need is for you to be bleeding,
    From my homicidal kiss

    It had been a long time since the nightmare had made her presence felt to others, too long in truth. Her scarred muzzle wrinkled in a wry smile as she scented the air, seeking out the scent of other horses...and blood. Ah the sweet red liquid that flowed through the veins and gave her an almost imperceptible high with it's metallic tang.


    Matted tail slaps against her scarred flanks as she moves off in the direction the scent leads her, massive hooves marring the earth with their passing. The grass was easier upon her hooves than the jagged rocks and hellish terrain of her former home had been, it was a slight relief though it would only be made completely better when she had a home. Normally she wasn't very social, the nightmare, but she knew that lone mares didn't fair too well. Even ones as big and willing to fight as she was, there was always some fool male that decided he had to have her. It was fun to send them running away like frightened deer.


    Finding the shade of a tree, she slinks into it's welcoming shadows like a large cat. Lowering her head, she begins to graze there in the shadows. Ears, the right one mangled courtesy of a long ago battle, swivel to and fro atop her skull as she remains alert to her surroundings. Partially hidden by the sweep of her forelock, dark eyes keep a close watch on her flanks. A predator always knew to be alert, and she most certainly was nobody's prey. But making some think she was prey was interesting, and a way to keep herself amused when things got dull.

    You see, I'm not like those other girls, baby
    I'm your bloody creature poster girl
    ♥dante
    Reply
    #2

    i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell


    To the Field. Recruiting wasn’t his forte, but it was necessary to his livelihood now more so than ever before. In order for him to live, the Chamber must live. For the Chamber to live, there needed to be warm bodies working for her. And while they had enough currently to scrape by, there could always be more. More of those able-bodied soldiers blood thirsty and wanting. Those sharp tongued delegates who pulled the puppet strings from the shadows.

    He bore the battle scars of many a fight. He had given his kingdom everything, gaining silvery tattoos as his reward. The new-found immortality did not heal them, though it did remove the silver from his mane and his muzzle. In the silvers place had came the glowing blue infinity symbol, seared right onto his chest. The mark of his eternal debt and life alike.

    The trip there is easy enough, despite the sun hanging heavy over his head. It beat down on his black coat and he sighed, ears flicking to his skull in obvious irritation. It was too damn hot to be here, too damn hot to be anywhere but his kingdom. Though the trees hadn’t yet returned to their former shady glory, the rock facings did a good job of keeping the cranky old general at a reasonable temperature. But duty had called, and so here he was, melting in the damn sun. Gritting his teeth he slipped into the shade of the trees, his tail lashing over his hocks in an attempt to ward of the flies. Movement ahead caught his eye, and he raised an invisible brow at the mare before him. Large and scarred, she gave the impression of a great force to be reckoned with. A smile curled his lips as he thought back to what the Chamber needed. Here, before him, stood possibly a great opportunity. “What does the other horse look like?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity and attempting a joke. It would probably fall flat, but he didn’t rightly give a shit. “I’m Warship, General of the army in the Chamber of Evil. Care to share a name?” He cocked a hind hoof, feinting relaxation though he ever on guard. Like her, he too was the wolf among the sheep.

    warship

    Reply
    #3
    As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
    But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.

    Librette knows a warrior when she sees one.

    The chestnut mare is a warrior herself, although she's got fewer scars than one might expect. Some of that has to do with having been dead once, and then revived – it's surprising how one's appearance improves when one is rebuilt after a long period of decay, really.

    But it's also because she's just very good at what she does.

    When she spots the black mare in the field, she doesn't hesitate in the slightest. She can see at a glance that the mare knows her way around a fight, and that is enough to tell her that the woman would be a great fit for the Valley. While not all horses there would kill on a whim, they're always looking for strong warriors. And lately she's felt silence slipping across her home, and it worries her. She will never allow the Valley to die.

    And so she makes her way toward the woman, her hooves rustling the soft grass. She can tell that the mare is alert, and so she makes no effort to make an especially large amount of noise as she moves. Just as Librette would know if someone was coming, this woman will know. She sees a stallion approaching, smells the Chamber on him, sees his battle scars, and respects him immediately.

    She nods to the stallion and then the unknown mare as she comes to a halt, arriving just in time to hear the stallion introduce himself and ask the mare's name. Librette herself is a mass of contradictions. Her form and her chestnut coat are unremarkable; they are neither beautiful nor ugly, they are simply there. Her eyes are brown, but not a rich, beautiful brown. Her mane and tail are neither long nor short, and are neither silken nor matted. There are only two distinctive features about the girl: large red-tailed hawk wings, currently tucked against the sides of her barrel, and a white scar that slashes across her chest, right above her heart. The wings are resplendent, red and gold and radiant, entirely incongruous against the rest of her. And the white slash is unnaturally white, a stark contrast to the dull reddish color of her chestnut coat.

    She flicks her tail across her haunches, her gaze steady on the other mare. "Hello." her voice is rough, but not gruff. She's a battle-mare, the sweet tones of the diplomats are a little beyond her. "Librette, from the Forsaken Valley." She greets, straight and to the point like any good warrior. "It's not often I find another warrior out here." and she is quiet. She's no one's idea of a diplomat.

    Don't weep for me
    LIBRETTE
    Because this will be the labor of my love.
    Image copyright FFFiiiAA
    Reply
    #4
    we were caught up in all our vices
    It is one thing to be the metaphorical wolf among sheep, it’s entirely another to actually be a wolf. The world is different, the smells are so much more intense – his eyes and ears are suddenly so acute that it almost always physically hurts. It takes a few minutes for him to adjust, but he does, and then he proceeds to prowl the edges of the field with the confidence of an animal with an entire pack behind him. There isn’t, of course, but the other horses certainly don’t know that. Where there is one wolf, there are usually four or more behind him – so they balk, some gather their children close, others stomp their hooves and gnash their teeth. He regards them the way one might regard an ant, snorts, then continues on about his business. If he wanted to, he could run through the lot of them – so long as there wasn’t a magician amongst them, of course – and lay waste to the entire field.

    Not that most magicians would care enough to stop him.

    None of them would, he wagers.

    Except his stepmother.
    Yael was and probably still is a beacon of hope.

    Utterly pure and riddled with good morals, she would never stand for such a thing.

    Tarnished sighs, his front right paw turning into a hoof seconds before he takes another step. His fur turns to hair, then begins to shorten; his muzzle thickens, his nostrils split open while his wolf-nose disappears. His ears slide back into the correct position and his face grows longer. The switch from wolf to Percheron Hybrid is smooth, quicker than it used to be, but he supposes he’s had plenty of practice over the last nine years. Quark did right by him when she put him through training. Drow, even better.

    Tarnished wonders how they’re doing, if they’re still alive.

    It’s been so long.

    Luckily, something catches his golden eye and distracts him. There’s a group gathering around a mare; she’s tall, probably not as tall as himself, but he isn’t exactly an expert and definitely not at this distance. Black. Probably comes from the same stock as his family, but she isn’t nearly as thick. Definitely not a daughter of Vanquish. Scars? Oh, yes. Lots of those. He cocks his head, glancing between the chestnut mare and the other stallion.

    Definitely recruiters.

    He should probably talk to one of them, surprise them – it isn’t every day that someone waltzes up and offers to join your kingdom in the Field, is it? He doesn’t think it is. He runs his black tongue across his sharp teeth – shiny and white, so pretty – before moving in for a closer look. They’re exchanging pleasantries by the time he arrives, and Tarnished stands quietly off to the side, waiting his turn.

    They probably think he’s here for the mare, too.

    That makes him smile.

    “Name’s Tarnished,” he offers, flicking back his left ear. “And I’m looking to join a kingdom. Give me a good reason, point me in the right direction and I’m yours.”
    Vanquish x Nocturnal
    equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity
    Reply
    #5
    All that I need is for you to be bleeding,
    From my homicidal kiss

    She hadn't been alone long when the wind brought her the musky scent of a male, ears tuned to his approach but she didn't lift her head just yet.  Ripping up the last mouthful of grass, she chewed thoughtfully while looking him over. Large, though not as large as she was, and he was just as scarred..except for those strange markings on his chest. Hmm, Warship and a general..fitting enough it seemed. What did the other horse look like? Well her mother didn't look like much of anything when the fight was over,  she'd been dead. Swallowing, she was about to answer when a winged female appeared and spoke to her, barely acknowledging the presence of the male. Turning to stand so that she faced both of them, she looked over the other mare, noting her battle scars and the way with which she carried herself. Another female warrior then, it seemed. Opening her lips, she answered them both, her voice rusty and scratchy from disuse.


    Greetings, Warship, General of the Chamber of Evil. And greetings to you as well Librette of the Forsaken Valley. I am called Alptraum, though my mother always called me her worst nightmare realized.


    She gave a wry twist of her lips as she spoke the word mother, and then answered Warship's first question.


    And that was before the two of us fought and she nearly ripped off my ear...and I relieved her of her life. So to answer the question, she was quite.. battered.


    Focusing on the pair before her, one ear trained on them and the other pointing backwards to catch sign of others approaching. Nonchalantly she cocked a hind hoof, tail slapping scarred flanks as the pesky little bloodsuckers tried to settle on her midnight hide. The sun seemed to gleam off the wings of Librette, and Warship seemed to simply impose upon it his darkness. Stamping away a particularly persistent fly that had attached itself to her leg, she spoke again, her voice less rusty and more honeyed alto this time.


    Where exactly am I? It is always good to know where one is, especially if you are a lone female.


    She chuckles darkly at her last statement, lips twisting into a sadistic sneer.


    Though some men who have tried to force themselves upon me have found out the hard way that all is not as it appears. Alone does not mean helpless.


    Another male joins the fray just after she finishes speaking, his scent barely giving him away before his bold approach. This one she could like, though all 3 of them seemed to be more like minded to the nightmare than anywhere else she'd been previously. She'd been an abomination in her birth herd, a bloodthirsty predator who defied the sweet gentleness of her mother at every turn. At least she'd goaded the old softie into battle before she left for good, and what a welcome feeling of relief that had been. Turning her head towards the new stallion, she addressed him.


    Greetings, Tarnished. I am Alptraum. Everyone seems to be in search of a home today, though I think these two already have them.


    She looked around at all three thoughtfully, mulling over in her mind which of the first two she might accompany if she asked. A place here could be a good thing, certainly she might find something interesting to do with herself. Killing was always fun, but the chase was so much sweeter.

    You see, I'm not like those other girls, baby
    I'm your bloody creature poster girl
    ♥dante
    Reply
    #6
    As a child you would wait, and watch from far away.
    But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play.

    She listens to the mare's words with a small smile playing on her lips. Alp would no doubt fit in well in the Valley – she thinks of Flamevein and Lokii, whose personalities are like sparks. What they could kindle with Alp would be the stuff of legends, she doesn't doubt. And god knows, she's not about to turn down an able bodied warrior.

    She's about to answer the mare's question when a strange stallion joins the mix. If she's surprised to see Tarnished walk up, she doesn't show it. Very little surprises her nowadays (although the sudden appearance of an egg from a gash on her side days ago had done a fair job of it). She's far more inclined to take it in stride, be a little awkward in how she deals with it, and then move right along.

    And so she does, nodding to the newcomer as though this happened every time she came in to the field. The woman speaks again, greeting the stallion. And then it should be Warship's turn, but as the silence drags, she figures someone should say something, and it's not Alp and it's not Tarnished, so that really leaves just her.

    "Alptraum, Tarnished." she greets them both in turn. "Alptraum, you're in a land called Beqanna. This is the field, where horses go to look for a home." a smile flickers across her lips. "And yes, you're right, Warship and I both already have homes."

    This is the hard part, the part that requires her to be loquacious and well-spoken and know exactly what to say. She draws in a deep breath. "I could stand here and talk about all the reasons why you both should pick the Valley until we're all bored" she looks between the two of them, a small smile playing on her lips. "But at the end of the day, you're choosing between two evil kingdoms, there's a little bit of overlap."

    "Part of what makes it different is that the Valley is a mythical kingdom, the Chamber isn't." She pauses. "You don't have to have wings or whatever to go to the Valley, but you can't have them in the Chamber. They disappear." She looks to both of them, her eyes catching on Tarnished's sharp teeth.

    "The best thing about the Valley is that it's what you make of it. What you want to make it be." She pauses again. "There's not a whole lot of rules, and not a whole lot that'll make us look down on you." a smile floats across her lips, but it's a grim one that doesn't really reach her eyes. "It's a good place to be if you've got skeletons in your closet." She chuckles humorlessly. "And it's a good place to be if you don't."

    Don't weep for me
    LIBRETTE
    Because this will be the labor of my love.
    Image copyright FFFiiiAA
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