• Logout
  • 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


    [private]  It's a beautiful night, we're lookin' for something dumb to do; Lilliana
    #1

    gotta do it in the penthouse
    that's where I keep my pen

    If he could sigh right now, he would be doing so. Melodramatically. Unfortunately, as he had discovered too well in the last few months, sand does not have the ability to sigh. Honestly, someone should fix that. Very shortsighted, in his humble opinion. Of course, sand shouldn’t have thoughts either, but he wasn’t going to go there right now. That just led to too many questions he really probably didn’t want answers to.

    The other side-effect he hadn’t counted on? There was simply no telling where he might end up. Of course, to him, it was actually something of a boon. He’d accidentally ended up in some very interesting places. And, well, as a young man with a somewhat questionable sense of humor, he finds this understandably intriguing. More so than he likely should.

    In any case, when he finally does coalesce back together, he finds himself a few feet above ground and falling into an unceremonious heap nearly right over the top of someone else. “Shit!” he yelps, dark legs flailing as he tries, somewhat gracelessly, to right himself.

    Good thing mom couldn’t hear him right now. She would not appreciate his language. Oops.

    When he finally does manage to get himself righted and to his feet, he whips around to grin sheepishly at the hapless standerby. At least, until he recognizes her. Then his grin widens in delight.

    “Imagine bumping to you here in the…” his voice trails of as he glances around, attempting unsuccessfully to determine their location, “here.” Trees. More trees. Water. “River! Right? Maybe? Yeah? Cool.”

    Calm, cool, concise. That’s Cassian. For sure.

    Cassian



    @[lilliana]
    Reply
    #2

    Lilliana would wonder about sand. Before the Mountain enveloped her in the fog that led to the forgotten desert, she might have even stared at it beneath her hooves and wondered about the memories it collected. She would have tried to imagine the infinite amount of time it takes for a rock to become a speck,  how long it takes to fill an entire desert. She would have thought about the storms and the amount of wind and fury it takes to turn impenetrable stone to a mere grain of sand.

    But the desert has changed a lot of things.

    Some nights, when the fog of Taiga dampens her skin and the chill of it lingers too close, she remembers the blaze and dry heat of the desert. She remembers the way that the orange sun could suddenly resemble the manic frenzy of murder in the eyes of a black stallion. Her body can still recoil (in her dreams) against the crack and breaking of bone, of the way that someone could drown in their own blood despite the arid landscape around them. Lilliana remembers and when she wakes with sweat coating her copper coat, she is grateful for the ocean breeze that passes by her. She is grateful for the steady shadows of the Redwoods that embrace her and remind her exactly where she is.

    In the bright sunshine of the winter morning, Lilliana travels from the northern forest. There is a delicate layer of snow that covers the trees, that pales the scenery around her. And finally, after all this time, the chestnut mare is finding something to admire in the season. She moves away from the protection of the snowcovered pines, away from the River  (away from the murmurs of her childhood, away from the reassurance she comes seeking). The day is brilliant and a thin layer of snow glistens promisingly as Lilliana parts from her beloved River. It struggles to laugh as shards of ice have started to dam it up and parts have become silenced under the frozen guard of winters breath. 

    She walks and-

    Suddenly, there is a weight above her and the copper mare loses her balance. There had been nothing there before and her mind moves to terror as she feels her weight shift to her hindquarters and she springs forward, sprinting away from whatever it was that ... appeared above her. Her quick movements however are not sure-footed ones and the chestnut loses her footing as her back legs end up sliding underneath her to the left and her front ones seek to stop the motion. Instead, Lilliana ends up toppling to the hard ground, her crimson coat becoming covered in mud and snow on the right side. 

    She is gasping for air as she rises and glancing around searchingly until a well-known feeling bubbles in her chest, something that feels like reuniting with an old friend or locating something misplaced that you never thought to find again. It's a familiar feeling as it rings out in peels of silver-smoke laughter. She approaches the black stallion who curses and flails around with the all the grace of an upside-down turtle, "Cassian!" she calls to her former classmate as the laughter tugs into a grin.

    "Didn't your mother teach you there were better ways to sweep a lady off her feet?"

    When he finally stands and beams back at her, Lilliana teasingly angles her head to the frozen body of water behind him. "Yea. The River."

    @[Cassian]

    but it's all in the past, love
    it's all gone with the wind
    Reply
    #3

    gotta do it in the penthouse
    that's where I keep my pen

    If there is anything Cassian does not want to contemplate, it’s sand. Were he a more intellectual sort, he might see the poetry in his current predicament. As it is, sand is, well, sand. And he has the misfortune to turn into it once in a while. And if the wind is blowing, he goes for a merry ride. He tries very hard not to think too much about how it is he always manages to end up all in one place. Wouldn’t it be just his luck for one eyeball to get flung across Beqanna if that weren’t the case?

    Yeah, no, better just not to think about it too much.

    He really doesn’t notice the mud and snow slicking his dark coat when he finally does manage to get himself righted. He’s too busy grinning at Lilli to pay much attention to such trivial matters. Besides, he’s definitely been covered in worse.

    Lilli’s teasing question startles a full, very amused laugh from deep in Cassian’s gut. He just couldn’t help it. “Have you… met my mother?” he manages to wheeze after a moment. He might love his mother a great deal, but he’d have have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to realize her romantic tastes were a little… questionable. Grinning madly, he continues, suppressing a laugh as he does, “Maybe, uhhh, don’t ask her for romantic advice if you do.”

    Cassian

    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)