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    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]  happy mother's day
    #1


    Life for the monster returns exactly to how it had been before the Plains. The experience as its once-self stored into the recesses of its mind, buried between an all-consuming ferocity that allows room for nothing else to exist. The only change has been physical, but whether or not the creature has noticed this change - or what it might think - is impossible to tell. Out of the dome of its elongated, armoured skull now curves two black horns, wickedly pointed like the rest of its body.

    It is a creature made for death, to be a hunter, and as far as it knows - this is the only life it has ever seen.

    Dawn is close as it moves along the border between Pangea and Hyaline. The master has implanted a map of the borders of their kingdom and the creature knows that this land is friendly with the land it is charged with protecting. Still, this border is a route into Pangea and both of the monsters routinely patrol, searching for strange smells and the potential for hunts that do not fall under the ban they were given when they first arrived in the canyon-strewn land.

    Movement catches the monster’s attention and its armored head snaps in the direction - black eyes piercing the blue light of the new day as a low clicking noise, some semblance of a greeting (or more accurately, a test) escapes from it’s gleaming silver jaws. It does not move, not yet, and that knife tail is relaxed behind it - swishing slowly across the dry dirt.



    RIPLEY AND NOSTROMO

    twenty-eight eaten to date



    @[Ryatah] <3
    the title works because it's BQ spring
    #2
    she fell for the idea of him
    and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
    She has birthed many children in her multiple lifetimes, but none really compared to Ripley.

    The circumstances of her conception were vastly different from nearly all of Ryatah’s interactions. There was no darkness, no dangerous games, and no fear. Depp was nothing like the other men in her life, and she had hoped that meant their daughter would live a relatively normal life, too.

    She should have known better than to hope; she should have known by now that if it wasn’t herself sabotaging anything good in her life that someone else would do it for her.

    Anaxarete’s explanation for why she had transformed Ripley into what she was today had been received with a tranquil sort of indifference. There was nothing she could say or do at this point to get her daughter back, and she could not blame the shadow queen for behaving as she always has. It would be foolish to expect a snake not to bite or a lion not to kill; and that strange kind of understanding is what has allowed Ryatah to live alongside the shadows for most of her life.

    And besides — she could not deny that Ripley was utterly magnificent.

    Here on the border of Hyaline and Pangea, she finds her.

    The sight of her — black and armored, with that knife-like tail dragging in the dirt and those depthless black eyes — is enough to make Ryatah freeze. She stares at her for what she thinks must have been the longest time, the glow of her aura dimming as the sky around them lightens, and breath hardly stirring in her lungs. She listens to the low clicks, and she wonders if she can even remember what Ripley sounded like before she had changed. The memories were hazy and half-hidden by years of her own turmoil, and she feels guilt twist in her chest when she realizes this is how she most remembers her daughter, and not as the vibrant girl she had been born as.

    “Ripley,” she says her name, soft and sad,  though she isn’t sure if she remembers it — if she even remembers her.
    ryatah
    #3


    It remembers, but not in the way most do. There are no images to its thoughts, no real memories that hold any sort of substance. Like everything stored within the mind of the monster, it is an instinct more than a thought. It does not recognize the name - the syllables, like all spoken by horses, are just garbled noise to it. Like a dog, it knows only commands.

    But it also knows that this is its mother. Its true mother - not one bound through magic and service. Knowledge of the horse it has once been, the filly who snuggled in close to her white dam on cold nights or laughed at her shimmering father, are not present. Its mind is nothing but shadows with the occasional burst of rage and hunger.

    Now though, something else blooms within it. The crowned head tilts to the side, a curious noise coming from it as that tail swishes lazily - not leaving the dirt behind it. Although every line, every inch, of this creature has been created for death, that is not its purpose now.

    It is relaxed. It is... curious. Almost reverent. Its movements are slow but it takes a small step forward, black eyes emotionless as ever. Giving nothing away. There is an echo of the quest on the Plains that reverberates within the shadows of its mind and though the creature does not speak in the proper sense - something between a hiss and a purr garbles from deep within its throat. Like a parrot repeating something it has heard over and over again for decades.

    It almost sounds like the word "Mom"

    It reaches out with it’s head, sniffing the air as it takes another step closer. If Ryatah won't move, it will stop when it is close enough to touch - but the creature refrains from connecting just yet.



    RIPLEY AND NOSTROMO

    twenty-eight eaten to date



    @[Ryatah]
    #4
    she fell for the idea of him
    and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
    She is not a stranger to fear, but Ripley inspires a kind that is altogether different from what she is accustomed to.

    It is not the kind that tangles with want; it is not the kind that hides itself as a game to be played. It’s raw and unrefined, the kind that calls forth every natural instinct that has lain dormant for hundreds of years, the kind that tells her she should run. This was her daughter, once, but logically she knows that it’s not her daughter anymore. If it decided to attack her, there would be nothing Ryatah could do.

    No way to talk herself out of the situation. No way of possibly being brought back. No chance of reasoning at all.

    But of course, she doesn’t run. She ignores every instinct and instead she stands solid, watching the creature as it studies her. Ripley was difficult to read, but she thinks she recognizes that something in her black eyes that feels more curious rather than threatening, though Ryatah knows that could change in an instant.

    She listens to the strange, alien noises she makes in her throat, but then there is something that she hears that makes her heart stop. It could have been her mind playing tricks on her, she thinks; her heart conjuring up what she wishes she could hear. But then Ripley is stepping towards her, and she feels her heart begin to thud wildly in her chest, and there is a hope that slowly builds and blossoms there. For a moment her breathing slows, afraid anything too sudden would send Ripley fleeing back into Pangea; as though the creature could ever be similar to a flighty deer.

    When Ripley reaches her head towards her Ryatah hesitates, but then she moves too, until her white nose is touching the black of hers. Slowly, she expels the breath she had been holding, her lips gently feeling the armor across her face before she withdraws. “I wish I could tell you how much I miss you, and have you understand,” she manages to say around the ache that is building in her throat. She knows that, in a way, Ripley is happy; she doesn’t know any better, and she doesn’t miss her past life. It’s just her own selfish heart that hurts to see her like this.
    ryatah
    #5


    The feeling of lips against the curved armour of its head is not a sensation that it knows well. There is an instinct to bite and to snap wings and to snuff out the glowing light of any that would dare to come so close. But deeper instincts are reigning now, and for the first time in a very long time, there is an uneasy sort of peace in the armoured creature. It doesn’t understand, doesn’t even have the capacity to understand - but it knows.

    This creature before it, with her gilded wings and shining light, is family. As much a part of the monster as the daughters and sons, the clones and half-creatures. Something more than the bond with Anaxarete.

    There is no way for it to convey this, no understanding in those hollow black eyes when Ryatah speaks. Not verbally, at least. But it feels a need to respond somehow. It takes a step back, moving slowly, and turns to leave. A pause, again that clicking noise - calmer than ever, a near-cooing noise that it reserves for using with the youngest members of its family. They know that it would mean to stay where they were, though there’s no telling whether the meaning crosses languages.

    If Ryatah does move, the creature-that-was-Ripley will find her again before much time has passed - now bearing the severed limb of an unfortunate and slow deer. The hunt had been swift, as they are when the creature does not wish to play games. Its movements now are slow, careful, as though it is actually taking care not to frighten - or perhaps that reverence for the angelic mare just runs that deeply. Either way, it approaches before laying the bloody stump on the ground - gesturing to it and again that clicking-coo noise as it retreats a few steps. There it watches, head perked, to see whether its gift will be accepted.



    RIPLEY AND NOSTROMO

    twenty-eight eaten to date



    @[Ryatah]
    #6
    she fell for the idea of him
    and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
    She doesn’t really expect Ripley to stay, at least not for long. She knows that there is little to her now beyond all the basic instincts, and eventually she would either grow uninterested in the glowing angel in front of her, or, most likely, she would get hungry. Ryatah wasn’t really interested in becoming her next meal, even if there was a foolish, trusting part of her heart that liked to think Ripley wouldn’t come after her. But as was her nature, she didn’t want to be the first one to leave. Even if she could not comprehend it, she did not want Ripley to ever see her turn her back and disappear; she didn’t want her to ever think, even for a moment, that leaving her behind had ever been her choice.

    When Ripley turns to go, though, there is something in the way she looks back at her, and the strange, almost crooning clicks that leaves her standing in confusion.

    She lingers in the area, though she isn’t sure why. She gets her answer soon enough when the trees and brush rustle with the movements of Ripley’s return, and for a moment all Ryatah can do is stare at the bloody leg that is so clearly being presented to her. “Oh,” she says softly, making sure to keep the grimace from her face when she lowers her head to inspect it. “This is….very nice. I think I’m going to save it for later, though.” Watching her daughter cautiously, and hoping that not immediately consuming the deer leg isn’t somehow an insult, she raises her head to better look at her once more. She knows the act was done out of a strange sort of kindness; maybe not in a way that she could understand, but, the fact that there was even a small part of Ripley that saw her as family and not prey made her heart feel like it was breaking in two.

    When the alien creature suddenly swings her head back towards Pangea, as though she is hearing something that Ryatah can’t, there is a sad, knowing smile that crosses her face. “Ana must want you back,” she says softly, and suddenly overcome with bravery, she steps forward. She touches her nose to her armored face, her dark eyes searching the endless black of her own when she says, “I’ll be here, in Hyaline. You can find me whenever you want. You don’t even have to bring deer legs, I promise Atrox doesn’t let me starve.”
    ryatah

    You don't have to reply since we talked about closing <3




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