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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


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    I think I found where I belong [any]
    #1
    Deserting the desert island was in everyone's best interest. The plague threatened most of the corners of Beqanna. Only a few, remote sections had been spared. Of course, some of the lucky residents possessed magic. Magic that could protect and heal. His grandsire was blessed with such magic; however, Jesper could not ask that of Brennen. Nerine itself was not immune from the wrath of the plague and, the ebony stallion could not justify following him there just because he could reverse the effects of the contagion. And, while Nerine certainly seems more inviting: Leviathons and Krakens united, his own flesh and blood to comfort and love, a peninsula that would be easy to defend, and tolerable weather.

    Alas, none of those reasons could persuade him to remain a burden to his grandfather. Jesper knew that Brennen would never consider him a burden. Truth-be-told, Jesper had not contributed anything to the brotherhood, over the past few seasons. Since Lamb had disappeared, the black had felt quite useless. Perhaps, this change was exactly what he needed to ignite his spark.

    With that, the jet black stallion set off to the north. The tide was low enough for him to see the sandbar and, Jesper did not hesitate to cross. Despite being a tropical island, winter still reached the white sands and aquamarine waters. The laps of ocean that touched his coronet bands were chilly. The smooth shores were stiff beneath his unshod hooves. The little fluff to his desert bred coat stood on its ends in a desperate attempt to trap air underneath and insulate against the wintry weather. Quad limbs carry lean chassis forward in a steady march as he picks a trail through the fertile, volcanic soil of Tephra. Then, he winds through the charred forest of Taiga. The northerly wind stings his left side as it whips off of the coast and drives the waves against the rocky shore.

    Soon enough, the rocky terrain of Nerine comes into focus through the fog and shadows of the redwood forest. A small smile spreads across rubbery labrums as he recognizes the land and tallies his progress. His pace is sustainable and, he neither feels fatigued, nor discouraged. He keeps his expression soft and friendly as he hugs the Nerinian shore, just in case a familiar face presents themself. As he treks north, Jesper feels the icy gusts penetrate his thin blanket of fur. The refined steed clenches his jaw as the biting cold begins to seep into his pores. His loosened muscles and joints continue to move with ease though, he is quickly burning through the heat produced as he moves closer to Icicle Isle. His salmon-lined nostrils grow dry as they warm and humidify each inhale of frosty air. Each exhale is a visible puff of carbon dioxide which expels from his nasal caverns. The tips of his ears become cold as the blood shunts away from his extremities to circulate among the core of his body. Jesper shakes his poll in an effort to send half of his full length mane down both sides of his nape. His tail tucks as tight as it can between his buttocks, which tense as well against the whips of wind.

    Jesper's unshod hooves soon land upon frozen rock and, ahead of him, lies his final destination. He pauses on the coast to assess his decision to settle down on the land of ice. Was he really equipped to handle this biting cold all year round? Something inside him sings merrily. Something reassures his subconscious that he is strong enough. As a bonus, his blood family would be right next door. In fact, Icicle Isle may even become a subkingdom of Nerine. It all depends on who claims it and what allegiances they hold currently or, establish once reigning. He considers briefly that Brennen had once named him heir. Jesper was honored though, he never really felt comfortable envisioning himself inheriting his grandfather's legacy. He had no problems with the idea of running his own kingdom; however, he hardly thought of himself as worthy to follow in Brennen's footfalls. Alas, he did not have to face that pressure and, he feels utter relief.

    Jesper stands on the northern most tip of the Nerine coast, staring at the ocean sludge before him. The liquid beneath the surface moves slowly as chunks of ice bob and bump into one another. The black closes his long lashes over his aquamarine gaze and forcibly tenses all of his muscular sinew as he plunges into the ice bath. He invests all of his strength into his momentum and presses on despite how numb everywhere feels. Jesper chose the northern most point because this is the shortest distance to wade. He had hoped that there was ocean floor to push off of but, the only thing beneath him is dark, ocean depths. All four limbs pull and push in an effort to get him to the icy coastline. He arrives, breathing heavily and clobbers his front hooves into the crunchy snow for traction. He heaves himself out of the freezing waters and stands, unsteadily. He shakes though, he finds that most of the liquid had already frozen. By now, his muscles are shivering from the exertion and the shock of being submerged in an ice bath. Jesper makes the decision to drop to the ground and roll in the snow, hoping that, at the very least, his plastered down pelt would not remain one solid sheet of ice. The movement seems to be enough to segment the hair at his joints and, with that, Jesper hauls himself back onto his hooves.

    Still trembling from head-to-toe, the stallion catches his breath before he browses the landscape. He wastes no time seeking the protection of a nearby cave. He finds one, which seems to be uninhabited, and enters gratefully. He steps inside its mouth and continues until he is just beyond the reach of the salty, arctic winds. There, he lowers to the solid ground once again. His limbs tuck as close to his barrel as possible and, he bends at his shoulder to pull his muzzle into his left elbow. The whistling wind blasts past the entrance to his shelter but, is drowned out by the chattering of his own dentition. The last thing Jesper recalls as he drifts off to sleep is the rocking of his chassis as he shakes uncontrollably.

    Jesper cannot be sure how long he slept. He could not tell if it was day or night. Before he even opens his eyes, the male notes that his teeth are no longer chattering and his body is no longer shaking. His chassis is still curled into the tightest possible form though he does not feel nearly as stiff as when he fell asleep. He decides to take in a deep breath to see if he is in the same place. A blast of arctic air enters his lungs while a strange sensation tickles his nostrils. The inhale not only drew in air but, what also felt like soft, dense fur. Perhaps, his head had given way to gravity and, now, rests against his girth. Or, did another animal curl up with him to share in his warmth?

    His eyelids flutter open slowly and allow his light blue gaze to adjust to the gentle light. He glances ahead, and first notices that his nose protrudes out rather than down. At the end of his proboscis is a still black but, much pointier, more narrow, snout. Beyond his nose lies the aforementioned soft, but dense, fur. Not recognizing the color as his own, Jesper begins to lift his head away from the unknown creature. As he does so, the male takes in more of his own, changed form. The bushy appendage seems to be attached. His limbs are shorter and smaller with paws, paw pads and toe nails instead of hooves. Above his limbs, a thick blanket of fur billows away from each of his breaths. There is no doubt that this form is his new form. His sides expand and collapse in sync with his increasing respiratory rate. His extremely fluffy tail flicks away at his will and, he consciously wiggles his toes. He felt like himself. His thinker-box contains all of the memories he would expect after one night's sleep. Jesper remembers leaving Ischia the day before and journeying across the north-western coast of Beqanna to reach the barren iceland. He remembers being a grandson of Brennen, a son of Carnage and Bethany. He remembers every torture-filled detail of his captivity in Sylva and, Lamb's captivity and, subsequent, disappearance. He remembers the quest he participated in to earn his bronze streaks (displayed as bronze tips on his fur-lined, triangular ears now). He remembers everything, vividly.

    He quickly tries to process what his eyes see and, first thinks of Merida. The first fox whom he had ever encountered. He remembers how curious he was of her similar form. He remembers trying so hard to study and understand how she worked. Next, he finds himself questioning how long this magic resided within him. And, why it chose to present itself now. Whatever the reason, he supposes that this new body is exactly what his subconscious had been trying to tell him. And, for whatever reason that the fairies blessed him with this ability, Jesper could feel his excitement bubbling with what new possibilities lay ahead.
    jesper
    carnage x bethanie
    devin's∇designs

    @[Umani]
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    #2
    "Don’t you ever tame your demons; but always keep them on a leash. "
    He had already begun, true to form, to turn the island into his own.

    He studies the edges of the lake, shrewdly noting the shoreline’s heart shape, barely discernible from the heavy blanket of snow that covers it. Here, with little to deter it, the wind howls almost perpetually. It knots cold fingers in the dreads of his mane, plasters his tail against tucked haunches. The faeries had raised the Isle from the depths, a safe haven from the Plague. If he has learned nothing from his near-century, it is that the faeries do little for no reason. His gold-colored gaze flicks to the lone tree that stands at its head, black and stalwart against the blowing snow. Dead at first glance, Set can feel the thrum of life within its dark and gnarled branches. A purpose, indeed, he muses. Mismatched ears twitch with the whispers, a dull hum at first, until it grows enough that he finally locates the proper frequency. Strangers, flocking to the safety that the reborn isle can offer them. Some infected already, most not.

    He feels the shift in his core, one creature borne from another.

    His own shapeshifting had been a dirty trick. A prize won as he had fought his way through the ranks in the third Alliance, the faeries had tempered his elation by handicapping the magic - he had been unable to control it. Without warning, an image of his beloved Katriel flinging his caterpillar body across a field in the Chamber plays out against the backs of his eyelids. It had been decades since he had thought of his treasured daughter. He grits his teeth at the pain of it, giving his neck and mane a good shake. The motion blurs his form for a moment, a breath, and an arctic fox stands where the piebald was a moment before. Licking his lips, he turns into the wind and sets off east, toward the nearest stranger who has made landfall.

    He does not bother to keep himself downwind, thick-furred paws padding along the heavy crust of snow in a meandering line. It has died down some here, anyway, only shifting gently over his dense white coat. His dark nose twitches with the newcomer's scent, the walls, permanent fixtures against psychic attacks, lowering just enough for him to brush against the other’s subconscious. Jesper. Carnage’s son, Brennan’s grandson. Fox shifter. Fascinating combination, Set muses, teeth parting in a friendly bark as the walls go back up. His tail stands straight up when he bounds forward, then drops in a play bow, brown seeking blue. “Welcome to Icicle Isle,” he says, eyeing the bronzed tips of the other fox’s ears with curiosity he does not have to feign.  
    SET
    alliance champion, once king, mage
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    #3

    Leilan
    Glaciers melting in the dead of night
    and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
    When he left Ischia because the mess he had made with three mares too many, had come to an extreme, and to fix his soul he needed to know, not guess or assume - it had only been Brennen he could talk to. Jesper, he had not seen for a while; neither Belgaer to be honest. Trekori, Nuage, Nihlus - gone, or retreated. So only Brennen could fill the hole and, it had been enough to reflect with him on his encounter with the Ice Fairy - enough to learn from his own mistakes.

    Only the immortal bay with his many children, had come near to what he needed back then. A friend and mentor who would understand more about what he was going through at the time, and could explain to him how one might keep his sanity between loving all the children and living centuries, multiple lifetimes in one.

    He’s only a decade old by now though. Or by next spring anyway. What’s the difference - still so much to learn.

    But at least the most important lesson, of last year, at least tempered him somewhat. He has more to live for than just himself, than the Brotherhood even. And he extends his family every day, if anyone needs it, he’ll go. Help. Protect. Guard.

    That’s what he does now, too. This island is so close to Nerine, and one of the few magical safe places in the world; Nerinian mares with foals, or pregnant ones, they mostly will want to come to this place’s safety. But if it isn’t safe, for his family, for his friends, for his family-of-choice (his Brothers who will join him in the move to Nerine, his Sisters even though he may not always like the idea of adding more sisters to his mental list - and for example, Willa and Eilidh and if he finds others being threatened or repressed by a higher power, more); even his own mother who puts up such a rough exterior, like last time when he and Castile had accidentally sort of killed a man maybe - but Klaudius was a rapist and a murderer so he deserved no less, he would do it again, like he had just proved when attacking Sabra - if any of them can’t be safe here, then he will make it so. There’s absolutely nothing he will not do for those he makes a promise to.

    That’s why he had confronted the suspicious gathering-at-night. Brash of nature and more honest than they were used to they had percieved him as a threat - and when the skeletal-winged mare laid out her plans, he knew he had the right of it. Now, tensions had raised higher than ever, and still the island was not yet, safe.

    So now he wants to know who enters. Eye them one by one before they can cause too much trouble. Some of them were Nerinians and Ischians, by the scent of them. This one he tracks today is neither, and he means to ask what he is doing here. Estimate him. Send him flying if he so much dares to propose a ridiculous thing like abandoning the world, abandoning the sick.

    He’s very much his mother’s son in that regard.

    But the man has found another it seems - a shifter, by the sounds of it, because that’s what it sounds like when a horse talks to a fox. A white one; two foxes, two shifters. The scaled bay roan spots them easily in the snow that makes up the north of this island; doesn’t need heat vision for that; then he closes in. A polite but slightly questioning nod to the stranger, and a tilted head at at the more familiar white polar fluff. He smells of Ischia, a bit - of Brennen, a bit also. But he doesn’t know which one of his friends are fox-shifters, so he just nods to the creature for the time being. The other shifter had already bid him welcome; though Leilan is not quite sure what to make of that. It sounds like a border guard or leader would say - he is neither, because this isn’t a kingdom yet. But let’s give him the assumption he is here on good terms, and is just being polite.

    Looking to the first fox however, knowing his origin is probably Ischian due to the faint smell, he just smiles at him. Bronze-tipped ears. Jesper. ”Welcome, Brother. It seems your new shape befits the island as much as mine.” His eyes gain a tiny bit of green, a remnant of what he truly is, son of the emerald-eyed Scorch; and very much a joker. Always looking for the fun part of life because, taking it too seriously can be too overwhelming. Something Jesper probably learned, too. Though he probably has a different way to deal wth it.

    you set my soul alight
    HTML by Vanilla Custard


    @[Jesper] @[Set] I noticed I hadn’t worked in the fact that Set shifted, oops. xD sorry for the extra tags!
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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    #4
    In his half-awake state, Jesper's pointy new nose twitches as the scent of another enters his olfactory channels. His right ear flicks towards the light yip before he lifts his skull and then, turns his triangular face towards that of another canine. Jesper feels relief that he is face-to-face with another fox (versus more of a predator species). Male decides to leave his vulnerable position and engage with this stranger. Now that he finds himself in the form of a fox, so much of his personality traits as an equine made more sense. His boldness. His curiosity. His ease of socializing with everyone else. As Merida had mentioned, she felt as though she belonged in this form. She was meant to be a fox. Jesper did as well.

    The same, crystal blue gaze peers out from thick fur, shaded a light gray. His nose is white. His paws, limbs, and all of his underside from the point of his sternum to the tip of his tail is white fluff. His main hue is several shades lighter than that of his ebony equine canvas. He resembles an arctic fox though is not snow white, all over. His undercoat is white though the longer hairs are an ash gray. It is as if he was born dark and was supposed to gray as he aged; however, the process had been stopped before completion.

    Aquamarine eyes meet golden brown gaze of the white fluffball before him. Jesper offers an introductory bow though, it is meant more as a stretch to test out his new muscles. He finds his new body to be quite a bit more limber than his equine one. He also stretches his refined jaw into a large yawn, a canine signal that he did not mean any harm. He could not be sure what role the lighter male plays here but, he certainly did not want any trouble. Bronze-tipped triangles catch his greeting and, Jesper offers a small grin to receive the other's introduction. Within moments, the footfalls of a horse are heard. The fox shifts his paws nervously until the familiar form of the silvering bay draft.

    An excited yip leaves his vocal chords before Jesper bounces towards Leilan. It had been ages since he had seen his brother. And, after all that had happened, the grandson of Brennen could not be happier to see a friendly face. On approach, Jesper realizes that he is now much, much shorter than a horse. He dips between the roan's front pillars and immediately wraps himself around the stallion's left front. Jesper completes a couple of figure eights before darting beneath Leilan's muzzle. The fox rocks back and stretches his tongue up to lick at the male's chin. As if playing tag, Jesper scoots away and assumes a position before both of the males. He stands, tail erect, though waving slightly as a result of the overstimulation. This new found body certainly is more sensitive than his previous. His eyes focus rapidly, his ears hear many more depths of sound, his nose picks up all sorts of new smells and, all new levels of familiar smells. His muscles are lean and sinewy, ready to change planes of directions at a moment's notice.

    Once still, Jesper makes eye contact with the white fox once more. He finds his voice and pipes up. "Thank you. My name is Jesper. I have travelled from Ischia since the Brotherhood  moved to Nerine. What may I call you?" The gray-white fox shifts his gaze towards Leilan, and adds a friendly tone to his voice. "Hi Brother. Long time, no see. Fancy seeing you up here. Fancy me, eh? I had no idea I could... but, I could not be more grateful for this coat!"
    jesper
    carnage x bethanie
    devin's∇designs
    @[Leilan] @[Set]
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    #5
    "Don’t you ever tame your demons; but always keep them on a leash."
    The one with gold streaks in his hair and dragon-ice in his veins is coming.

    Set contemplates the yawning Jesper with a furrowed brow, his expression smoothing over when the other fox resumes a standing position and gives over a smile. There is no time to say anything else, though. His ears, tufted white, flip forward and then back at the sound of snow crunching underneath heavy hooves. The black and white (well, not at the moment, of course) stallion knows a thing or two about family. He turns to take in the exchange between the fox-shifter and his great grandson, bright gaze caught up in contemplation. The thick coldblood is vehemently loyal to those he sees as his. A snarling mother bear, fierce in his pride and sense of self-righteousness. Set shifts his weight, sitting down and curling his tail around him. His head tilts to the side, shrewd gaze studying the interaction. A typically light-hearted creature, Leilan, he thinks, driven to cruel frustration by the threats to his tenuous claim. The dark corners of his mouth draw back, tongue lolling out and to the side. It had been easy enough to push the right buttons to get the desired results. He must get that from his father’s side.  

    What he had not expected, though, was the intensity in the measure of the young stallion. He gets that from his mother’s side.  

    Jesper is speaking now and the silence of his introspection warps and fades. He blinks against the occasional gust of wind, nose twitching at the myriad of scents it carries with it as he cranes his head to the side again. “Most of us,” - he stands with a shake of his dense coat before meeting Jesper's bright gaze - "don't have names." His shoulders roll in a semblance of a shrug, as if not having a name is no big deal. He has no doubt that they'll be unable to detect his true essence, tucked safely away in the fox's body, and so for now, he feigns ignorance. A pause and then, "Brotherhood? Nerine?. He is not sure if Jesper heard him, as he had turned to Leilan at the exact moment Set had begun speaking again, but surely Leilan has, sharp as he is.
    SET
    alliance champion, once king, mage
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    #6

    Leilan
    Glaciers melting in the dead of night
    and the superstars sucked into the supermassive
    The island is full of would-be claimers; so far he has found none other that wasn’t doing it for their own personal gain, however. Which means there is no backing down, unless his own would ask him to.

    It can upset him how little they seem to care about others; even Camomila just wants a kingdom because she wants a second chance at leading, having apparently made a big mistake earlier, since she lost it - magic stolen, driven out. A leader who had not had enough backup, then, or not trusting her subjects enough, for things could probably have been different if she had.

    Phasus is just a selfish brat; kicking out the sick because she’s scared for her own hide and nothing more; and that power-hungry gleam in her eyes of course tells him quite enough; if she gets to lead this place, he’ll start a fucking war, because he doesn’t want her as a neighbour.

    Now the fourth, he doesn’t quite know yet - but if the power display and secrecy in the way of bringing messages is an indication - as well as the fact that it is a complete unknown who would, presumably, claim a land just because he could do it (as if three isn’t enough already) - he doesn’t quite trust him either. He has no reason to trust him, because the man didn’t take the time to introduce himself, or talk to those who have laid claim already and find out their motives - and so, to Leilan, it looks like his family’s well-being is at stake. Again.
    The man could be a newcomer or one of those ancients souls that frequent Beqanna - but in the latter case he has chosen a very convenient time to crawl out of his hole. No, he doesn’t trust that at all.

    Like his father, he’s slightly over-protective. Like his mother, everything he feels gets multiplied by a thousand. Result? He’ll fight to death and beyond for those he cares about. Beyond is an option nowadays.

    Jesper is one of those, his friend, might even say his best friend at this point. He’d willingly gone to Sylva to learn about them, at around the time Leilan had been stolen to Loess; Brothers by oaths sworn on Ischian soil, but more importantly in heart, for the things they’d been through had forged them both.

    Leilan had sincerely hoped the dark times would be over now; but after all that happened, there had been exactly one season of relative ease - last autumn.

    Now this.

    So Jesper is a little light in the dark, even if he did absolutely nothing. Lowering his own head to eye level with the arctic foxes, his eyes gleam more aqua and green as the bronze-tipped canine makes figure-eights, his soft fur nearly getting stuck in his own black-scaled lower legs and feathering. ”We could use a little more warmth and softness around here, I think.” The comment is more serious on a deeper level, and his eyes are a dark blue in the blink of an eye. He then regards the nameless fox, and snorts. ”Keep your secrets if you must.” It doesn’t get appreciated - Leilan’s seen the hoofprints, and he has yet to meet a nameless horse.

    The nameless fox asks about the Brotherhood and Nerine, but the scaled roan gives him a literally icy stare, a calculating look to his face. Nice. Let’s all just barge in on things and threaten the neighbouring kingdom without asking questions. The thought is thick with sarcasm, and if he’d known this is the same stranger that had crawled out of a hole to lay a fourth claim to the land that was nearly worked out into dual leading (together they would have been able to get Phasus to move elsewhere), he might have added a shovel more icy irony on top of it. ”It’s called combining forces.” he says rather neutrally. Krakens and Leviathans; Brothers and Amazons. Ischia and Nerine had been sister kingdoms so long, it all made sense. But even their combined force could not claim total immunity from the Plague - Brennen would have to work day and night to protect or heal everyone. That’s too much to ask. Those who want to should be able to move here.

    So he’d laid claim. This is his new home. And it’s going to be safe for his family to visit and stay here. Pride, even though he has a lot, has nothing to do with it.

    The irony is that he would have let anyone in. But then they’d become a threat. Backed into a corner, a cat makes weird movements.

    A stubborn dragon perhaps is even worse.

    you set my soul alight
    HTML by Vanilla Custard
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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    #7
    Aquamarine gaze study the snow white canine and the roaning bay steed. After their shared time in Ischia and practice dual, Jesper considers himself quite familiar with the latter. Of course, somethings had changed. Leilan did leave the brotherhood for quite some time. And, by the looks of it, picked up a new trait along the way. He felt the tug of his fur by the rough scales protecting the draft's front limbs. Those are new, Jesper thought to himself. Mighty handy, too. As for the other fox, the typically, jet black, desert bred equine had not met any other canines besides Merida. This guy certainly does not look familiar and, none of the mingled scents of his cologne jog any of Jesper's memories. The motion of the stranger sitting down pulls Jesper's focus from his inner musings, briefly. He soon slips down memory lane recalling when he met Merida, her brilliant red coat like fire against the Forest background. He recalls how fascinated he was with her ability to sit. However, now that he could sit, without question, he felt it inappropriate to do so. This white fox is very much a stranger and, he would not let his guard down, especially in this new, unexplored, untested body.

    No name? Yeah, that is sketch runs silently through his think-box but, for the first time in his life, Jesper holds his tongue. He supposes this guy's name would not hold a lick of meaning to him but, that never stopped anyone before. He could have given a fake name and, Jesper would have been none the wiser. Glossy pools shift to Leilan momentarily and, note the clenched jaw and tension in his neck. Jesper could sense something was afoot between the two of them. The cool tone of Leilan's voice is enough to harden the soft blue of his eyes to a shade similar to that of ice. The stranger's inquisitive tone about Nerine and the brotherhood spark another red flag. Why did he not say Ischia in the same questioning tone as Nerine? Both came about at the same time. How long had this guy been on Beqanna that he did not know of the kingdom, on the mainland, that he would of had to trapse through to get here? Unless, of course, he is not just a fox. Unless, of course, he has other magic. Mystery abounds with this one and Jesper became increasingly more suspicious of his intentions.

    The gray fox decides not to offer any more information than Leilan regarding their shared history. Insteads, Jesper opts to steer the conversation in a new direction. "So, where does Icicle Isle stand during this chaotic transition? I understand she lies beyond the reach of the plague. Will this be a free-for-all refuge or, will we organize and, establish rules? Has a hierarchy been established yet? I would love to contribute any way I can. Are there enough occupants to hold a meeting to discuss things?" The male stops here upon realizing that he was almost rambling.
    jesper
    carnage x bethanie
    devin's∇designs
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