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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


    [open]  'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs; any
    #1

    Birth, some time ago, had exposed her to the glittering shallows and to the aphotic depths: to the pressure beneath the surface and to all manner of horrors beneath the sea. She knew them… like her brother, as home; but the times had been stranger then and now she rested on different land and in a different place.

    Sunlight beat down upon the girl and her sapphire blue patches where white dulled the color and bled into larger patterns along her body. Golden flecks of color manifested along her skin and the edges of the contrasting colors… but it was her eyes that were strange. Turquoise or green, iridescent in a way that suggested something unusual; but still, Moghedien simply blinked and they remained.

    Built akin to something of a lighter warmblood or perhaps a sportier hotblood… she stretched the long limbs and rocked herself to stand amidst the pale shore where sparkling water lay not far from. Lazily and almost feeling, she wobbled and walked, eased herself into pace before trotting through the bait-fish schools and the lighter areas of would-be-clear shoreline.

    Waves ebbed and flowed and she looked sidelong to the lounging figure of a smokier body… similar to her own but just as different. A smoky, odd grey or brown color with thick patches of white and the same turquoise eyes; but as he kicked upward and righted himself to his feet the lanky boy wobbled and noted the sand stuck to his body… the matted fur slick with some sort of ichor.

    “Gross.”  the female of the pair protested, and watched as her brother walked into the water and promptly disengaged the sand… bits of clear oil or something slowly oozing onto his skin though and he moved closer to her with a huff.  “You’re gross.”  he remarked, snapping at the air near her face before being driven back by her own gnashing.

    Playfully, however, they settled after a time and found themselves kicking idle sand at one another or mock fighting: Moghedien narrowing her eyes in the end and staring at Demandred.  “This island is boring. There’s nothing here and nobody to play with.”  acting as if the expert on the topic she huffed when Demandred shook his head.

    “There are people, we just haven’t been around. Dummy.”  and so they seemed to continue: bickering for the moment. 

    Moghedien

    PVP: On
    Minor Injury, and Some Mutilation Permitted.
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