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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


    anyone;
    #1
    She spun the stars on her fingernails
    Why does the coast seem so different without him? His scent has faded and the sound of his voice has silenced. She has stood on the rocky ledge with searching eyes, but she would never admit to looking for him. The truth of her wants – her needs – are masked behind a face of steel and a fortified mind. There are days that she even tries to hide the truth from herself.

    No distractions, she tries to tell herself.

    But her self-given advice is still not enough to halt her casual search for him. Pebbles tumble down the path as she picks her way downhill until she is once again on the sandy shore. She rounds the corners of their home as though patrolling the invisible borders, but her mind is still hungrily reaching for his scent, his voice, his shadowed image. Her quiet desperation even leads her to the mouth of his cave where she peers in hopefully only to find it abandoned. ”Where the fuck…” she whispers through gritted teeth before pivoting and expanding her exploration to farther points of Nerine.

    Nayl’s patrol takes hours. What began early in the morning has trudged along until the nearing sunset. Shades of scarlet drench the Cliffside and the dunes. An entirely new face plays across their home as it prepares for nightfall. Vivid reds, oranges, and yellows paint her skin when she once again reaches the ledge, her fiery eyes staring across the calmed sea. Miles out, the current seems so gentle and serene. It lulls her and, for a fleeting moment, distracts her from Stillwater (oh, the irony of his name with their ocean.)

    Much to her dismay, however, Nayl is ripped from her tranquility by the crashing of water on the beach. The swirling and turbulence of nature brings him back to mind, reminds her of how dangerous they are together, and yet requiring of each other. With a snarl on her lips and anger boiling in her blood, Nayl turns away from the ocean and stares blankly toward the barren dunes.



    Nayl
    covet and myrina's creation




    This is so shitty, but I suck at beginning posts, and Nayl is just an angry pants right now
    #2
    djinni

    Djinni walks through the forest alone, a shadowy spotted figure following a seldom-traveled trail. One moment she is deep in the Sylvan forest and the next she is standing on the beach of Nerine.

    The sunset had been invisible from Sylva; the sky there is always hidden by a canopy of autumn leaves. It takes her a moment to adjust to the brightness, as small as it is. When she does, the tall cliffs behind her cast shadows that extend far beyond the shoreline, making the seawater look black and ominous. It’s only been a few weeks since she last was in Nerine, but she could swear that the ocean has gotten louder and the gulls more shrill.

    Perhaps it’s her imagination.

    Or perhaps it’s been too long since she came home.

    She’s here now though, and that is what matters. She turns from the sea and sees Nayl silhouetted above, looking out at the sea. She had come to find the queen, to breif her on the happenings since their last seaside conversation, so Djinni does not hesitate to approach her. She considers climbing up the granite cliff, but that would take time and effort.

    Instead, she appears a few paces from the pied queen, a pleasant smile on her face.

    It fades as she takes in the snarl on Nayl’s face and the angry lines of her posture as she looks out at the dunes.

    “Something bothering you?” She asks mildly. Clearly the answer is yes, but she’ll not press Nayl for answers. It’s unlikely she’ll need to though, not with the way the wind blows her mane – and the smells of Sylva and Stillwater – toward the queen.

    current appearance:
    slim build
    smoky grullo minimal tobiano
    mare
    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster
    #3
    She spun the stars on her fingernails
    Nayl didn’t expect to see Djinni, not yet and not when she is consumed by her own rage, her own shame. The genie appears, however, and it isn’t in her nature to turn away a friend – a trusted confidant – but her rope-like muscles are still quivering and tense even underneath the grullo’s curious stare. Although her innerworkings are shielded from sticky fingers, Nayl is betraying her agitation with a hardened gaze and uneasiness in her stance. She exhausts herself daily by being a stone wall and shielding even her facial gestures, but she buckles in this rare moment.

    When her head turns, there is a fire lit behind her eyes. ”Djinni,” she notes as though just noticing the genie’s presence. The muscles lining her jaw contract and clench for a fleeting moment, relieving of pressure when a scent is wafted into her searching nostrils. ”I suppose just the musings and burdens of a Queen,” she lies convincingly although that can be seen as partially true. It’s normal to fret over a lost member of their herd.

    But apparently, he isn’t lost.

    His scent mingles thickly with Djinni’s. What boasted hatred they had at the last meeting seems to be a thing of the past now, a poor first impression. When Nayl breathes, he is all that she can smell, all that she can taste (or imagine tasting since she has yet to cave into her desires). She doesn’t acknowledge this, however, and now straightens her expression and sturdies herself. With a lungful of air – of him – Nayl composes herself and rolls her shoulders in a shrug. ”It has been a while,” she manages to say, ”what have you been up to?” Besides being with Stillwater, she restrains herself from saying.




    Nayl
    covet and myrina's creation
    #4
    djinni

    It’s rare that Nayl lets others see the emotion behind her cool mask; Djinni suspects she is only witness to this display because of how suddenly she had appeared before the queen. The same can often be said for the grullo mare and her own mask, but the curiosity and concern that wrinkle her striped brow are genuine.

    The tightness of Nayl’s jaw and the hardness of her eyes – they do not go unnoticed.

    The tobiano mare re-adjusts her mask as she breathes in the fresh salt air, and it does not even occur to Djinni to wonder what others scents might have been intertwined with the sharp briny smell of the sea. She is thinking only on Nayl, and what might be behind her anger. What burdens is a queen supposed to have? Should she be feeling equally as burdened? Is that what that uncomfortable weight inside her chest is?

    Nayl says that it’s been a while, and Djinni agrees with a nod of her head. Then she asks what Djinni has been doing, and for a moment silence falls between them.

    “You told me to find friends for Nerine…” she begins at last, and even though she’s barely a handful of words into her story, she already seems, somehow, reluctant. She continues without pause, the hesitation in her tone, not her timing. “I did. Stillwater is in charge of Sylva now.” Djinni somehow manages to speak directly to Nayl while still avoid perfect eye contact. Her gaze is somewhere on the horizon of the black sea. She looks – for all intents and purposes – like she is mildly embarrassed.

    Is it just an act though? Or is Djinni, for perhaps the first time in fifty years, finally having to deal with the results her action have caused?

    current appearance:
    slim build
    smoky grullo minimal tobiano
    mare
    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster
    #5
    She spun the stars on her fingernails
    Behind her mask of marble there is anger and there is distress. Djinni performed what Nayl had asked, but had taken it to a term that she never anticipated (or wanted). It’s greedy and selfish to want to keep him penned here for her own amusement, but she doesn’t care. He has been content living in the shallow caves where darkness is able to consume him and solitude lull his roaming mind. That was what he wanted after all – the cave and to do what he pleased. She gave him what he wanted and still he left, still he abandoned her.

    Nayl’s gut wrenches when she weighs Djinni’s words. Sylva is theirs now under a false king, under a man that has promised a mere ounce of loyalty to the Nerinian Queen. Everything about the situation should elicit joy and pride, but still her mind is wracked by a tumultuous storm of emotion. Selfishness, joy, greed, loneliness, arrogance. What she allows to be mirrored on her face, however, is the smug contentment of hearing a friend having accomplished her assignment. A smile lifts the corners of her mouth and her fiery eyes brighten. ”You did wonderfully, Djinni,” because she took Nayl’s instruction and ran with it seamlessly. ”Thank you,” Nerine wanted friends and so their eclectic Mage delivered. Surely, their unhappiness will recede now.

    ”I’m sure he’s enjoying the change of scenery,” she adds sarcastically, a gentle laugh pursuing the idea of Stillwater wandering a forest, lost and confused. How odd it is to picture him dazed in a web of trees as a king (him, a King?!), but while Nayl takes amusement in this she also considers it heavily. Soon, he will want his cave back and he will do what’s necessary to crawl back. Without betraying herself, Nayl inclines her head and observes Djinni. ”You went above and beyond, my friend.” A solidifying statement to further conceal her ill contempt of having – temporarily – lost her playtoy.


    Nayl
    covet and myrina's creation
    #6
    djinni

    The concept of puppet kingdoms is not a new one in Beqanna – though it is here in this reformed place. The result of her impersonation had not been intentional, but far be it from Djinni to turn down something offered so easily. She hadn’t wanted the responsibility herself, and she’d easily made the decision to take Stillwater up on the offer he’d made earlier.

    Nayl seems – despite Djinni’s misgiving – rather pleased, and an answering smile appears on Djinni’s grullo face. She only nods her head, not entirely able to find the words to accept more graciously, and when the tobiano queen laughs about Stillwater’s predicament, Djinni’s smile grows.

    “Oh, he hates it.” She replies with a shake of her head. “Missing you, I’m sure.”

    The grullo mage had never been interested in the relationship between her king and the black stallion, but their recent interaction had piqued her curiosity. It seems Nayl has denied him, which doesn’t surprise Djinni – but does make her question how often he has tried, or if Nayl had encouraged him before rebuffing him. Djinni has never seen the queen with a man, but that doesn’t mean that Nayl lacks male company – perhaps she is just more private about these things than most.

    “Thank you,” she replies.

    current appearance:
    slim build
    smoky grullo minimal tobiano
    mare
    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster
    #7
    She spun the stars on her fingernails
    It had been so easy for Sylva to be taken over. A simple request escalated into a calm overthrow that has nestled the forestland underneath Nerine’s wing. They are the first to rise to power in that sense, here in this revised Beqanna. Even that simple fact enthralls Nayl and ignites a flame deep in her core. She plans to be a strong, formidable Queen for Nerine; she refuses to fail them. With Djinni at her side, it all just seems simpler.

    They feed off each other’s joy at having been dealt this new hand of cards. They are stepping out of their shadows and engraving their names into their world’s overwhelming history. In this moment, they are able to enjoy the sweet taste of victory. In this moment, they enjoy their accomplishments.

    A smile here and a laugh there. What friendship they originally had is now building on itself, fortifying and strengthening with each passing day. Nayl blinks and looks at Djinni, still with a smile but with an inkling of seriousness. ”I made you the Mage, here,” announcing the promotion only to her instead of the group of Nerinians. It isn’t as though Djinni revels in attention or flaunts her efforts and achievements; she has always appeared more private in her mannerisms. The proclamation controls the small space between them for a while until Stillwater’s predicament strikes a chord. Nayl hardly flinches and forces herself to chuckle. ”I highly doubt that,” she refuses to believe that he would be missing her or wanting her. Originally, he wanted a cave and whomever he wanted, and now he has an entire forest with women likely shadowing his step. Despite inwardly hoping that Djinni is being honest, Nayl only leads her to believe that Stillwater doesn’t affect her.

    No one can know.

    ”I’m sure he’s savoring his temporary freedom,” with emphasis on temporary.



    Nayl
    covet and myrina's creation




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