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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]  Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur [Any]
    #1
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    Where she had been and what she had been doing was unimportant. She was here now. 

    The autumn chill nipped at her buttermilk toned skin, the fur thickening but not quite a winter coat yet. Slender black legs carry her through the field at a trot, hooves digging into the mulch before she slows to lower her finely dished head to graze. The sky was gray today and she finds herself hoping the sun would soon peek out, to help combat the bite of the weather. Long black strands of her tail flick gently against her hocks as she lifts her head again, golden iris’s scanning the field.

    It was quiet here today. Throngs of horses once surged through the long grasses and waited by the paths in search for a home. Over time it seemed as if the seekers dwindled. She had avoided the Field for a long time but today was different. She was tired of just existing and although she wasn’t sure what she was exactly looking for, this place was usually the best starting point.

    She hadn’t called anywhere in Beqanna home in a long time, not since the Amazons. There’s a longing for the jungle that’s bred deep inside her. She misses the sisterhood, the vines and ferns, the jungle cats. There had been hope once, that she would be the next Khaleesi after her mother. Bardot had admired Tantalize, idolized her. Liz had started the Khaleesi tradition (something the jaguar mare was forever proud of as the legacy seemed to live on long past her rule) and in her short reign accomplished much with the sisters and the jungle. Her childhood had been pleasant, when her parents had still loved each other. It was Bardot that had gotten caught in the middle, when her father raped her mother. Bardot that got caught in the war between the Dale and the Amazons. She hadn’t wanted to choose but the choice had always been obvious. The Amazons were here home, her mother (even at her weakest moment had been so strong) was her world.

    That had been a long time ago, history swamped by the breaking of lands and forgotten when the jungles formed into something new. It hadn’t been the same. And now she was here. A new start to a new chapter.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.
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    #2

    Chem remembers pieces of the old world. The way Beqanna sed to be. Even as a young boy he remembers stories, stories of the Chamber of Evil, the Forbidden Dale, the Dewdrop Deserts – the great bachelor warriors of the Frozen Tundra. Many of the kingdoms had begun their descent by the time Chemdog was weaned, and he memory of their politics is very hazy, irrelevant. But he remembers his Grandfather always boasting of being a herdsman even in those days, the days of rivalries and great wars, raids and power struggles – things are mild now, compared to then, even with the recent disasters tat have rolled over Beqanna.

    And now the sun has returned, the planets realigned, the light back again. When it is cloudy like today, gray and dim, it reminds him of what it was like for those long hours (who knows how long it was dark, there was no time). The only light is what someone could struggle out of flame, or ethereal glow. His spine tightens, and the scabbed over wound on his shoulder pulses a little. The deep slashes, three long ones all the way across, are almost completely healed but the flesh is forever marred. Not only were the lacerations deep but the poison left a chemical burn behind. The beasts’ fangs dangle in his mane, braided in, a souvenir of his fight. The darkness almost got him.

    But he came out more powerful, in his opinion, and the dark magics may have stripped him of his healing but he was now the conductor of souls. He could summon two at his command, and some even summoned just to visit, like his Grandfather, he was getting stronger with it every day. Today he plays with it in the haze of what threatens to be rain, mist falling lightly from the grayness above. He summons a pair of playful ghostly wolves; they romp and play for a moment before disappearing and next come a pair of jays. The fly out from his chest and flutter and swoop, dancing above with no sound, only the ghoulish tinkle as they dart around. They jet away and fly just ahead where the buckskin mare is, diving down and circling her, twittering about mirthfully before disappearing. Chemdog is soon behind their disappearance and approaches her from behind, “Hello.” he grins, taking a deep breath as if smelling the air, “smells like rain.” he turns to her, trying to read whether her response might be of a welcoming tone or if she’s preparing to lay a bite across his face (or maybe somewhere in between).


    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall


    @[Bardot]
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    #3
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    What a drastic change. A seeker in the field usually attracted a lot of attention and many offers. She can recall following her mother to train or watch recruiting, the mares always seemed to be fighting off suitors or kingdom offers, the strongest males having their pick of kingdoms to choose. The realization of just how cruel time is becomes even more apparent as she grazes lazily in the field for quite awhile without any interest turned her way. It’s a little insulting as much as it’s disheartening.

    She sighs softly as a hoof cocks behind her. Bardot didn’t look as if she had lived through the breaking of the world, only her memories would betray her age. She didn’t even remember much of her life before appearing in this field. One day she was in the jungle, one day it fractured, one day she was here. There was no point in questioning why time or life worked the way it did. She existed and she lived and it was as simple as that.

    As she considers those memories, an annoying pair of jays start circling around her head. They don’t sound like normal birds, their chirps have an unearthly tone as they twirl and grab at strands of her dark mane with mischief. Before her ears can even lace back they are suddenly gone and a voice speaks behind her. Slowly she turns her neck to gaze with indifference at the stallion that’s suddenly appeared behind her. In time, her body follows until she’s fully turned around and facing him.

    Bardot doesn’t bother to hide the disappointment from her face. It’s not because he’s ugly to look at. No, he’s handsome in his own way. A little older looking, his draft like body is thick and lined with scars and burns and all manner of war stories. It’s the fact that this is it, this is all that comes calling. The glaring reality of how much has changed. How she really misses those days of strong and thriving kingdoms. Mostly she just misses the jungle, she wouldn’t have to be here to begin with if the Amazons were still intact.

    He speaks of rain and she looks up briefly at the cloudy sky then back at him with a brow raised. ”Observant aren’t you.” She responds cooly but waits for his reply regardless. She assumes he must be some sort of war hero and perhaps had a proposal for a spot at the court he fought for. It couldn’t hurt to hear it even if it was the only offer that might come today.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.


    @[Chemdog]
    Reply
    #4

    How typical of both of them – to be here in the sunlight, glaring at passerbys and the Chem trying his hand at fishing for the day. It is a cycle that has gone on here since Beqanna’s birth, or emergence, or however this odd dimension came to be. It is like a snail’s shell, ever looping, encasing it’s own world; the Field is forever on a loop, and both participants here seem to know the swirl quite well.

    He smirks, a half-hearted chuckle bubbling up as he notices her expression drop. He is not the Prince she was expecting? Or perhaps she was hoping he would have a vagina and a crown. He’s far passed self-esteem, or second guessing his own charm vs. his grime. He’s equipped with both, he’s aware.

    The rain begins, sparse and gentle, and he takes a deep breath after her chilly retort. “Some days.” he tosses his thick tail over his hips, looking out into the fog starting to descend from the hills down into the open grasses. “If you’re looking for somewhere to go, there’s room in Silver Cove – plenty of food and shelter.” he huffs between sentences, “Winter comes fast.” His teal eyes slide over to her pristine, unmarred face. “But if it’s structure you’re looking for, a Kingdom, I am sure the fine lady of the lake; Mazikeen, would welcome you.” The sneakier part of him doesn’t offer her escort to anywhere else, if she’s not aware of her many options, he wouldn’t be the one to open her eyes to it. Chem is always open to buttering up the Queen of Hyaline in attempts to keep she and hers on his side. He doesn’t bother to explain that he does not plan on any real structure to the Cove, not in these early days anyway, and that drifters are quite welcome without commitment (a generosity he learned from his buddy Leilan).

    And if it’s to be left in solitude, I’ll go, but I do recommend the River for a bit of peace; if that’s what you seek.


    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall




    @[Bardot] sorry you had to wait bb Heart
    Reply
    #5
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    He takes her snippiness with grace and she gives him a tight smile in response as he speaks. “I have no desire to be collected and kept.” Is her first response, the gilded edges of her iris’s narrowing at him. No, she would not collect dust on a shelf only to be taken out to play the common broodmare. She had been raised for better things than that and deserved much more than a herd could ever give her.

    This kingdom however… “Tell me more of Mazikeen and this lake.” Her voice a soft murmur as she ponders him and the tidbit he dangled before her like a tasty carrot. She refused to show her ignorance on just how wildly uninformed she was. She knew the jungle was gone, knew the world had become different since she had last drawn breath here. But that’s about as far as she knows, the names of new lands and kingdoms as lost to her as their current rulers.

    He speaks again of solitude and she gives a slight shake of her head, sending luxuriant raven curls into unruliness. “That’s the exact opposite of what I seek.” A teasing smile on her gray lips and a pointed expression playing across her delicate features.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.


    @[Chemdog] No worries, I still have no idea what I'm doing with her lol <3
    Reply
    #6

    Oh,” he feigns concern, poorly, “you have pegged me exactly, then. I am a collector of fine company, and a hoarder of delectable interaction.” he huffs, smiling sickly. He did like defiant women. Not to conquer, or break, but to simply be in the presence of. They’re contentious air when it comes to men, some of them anyway, was always a bit of fun. Often these women become Queens, or lesbians, both of which he approves of (because his approval matters, in his universe -eye roll-).

    Yes,” he lets out a sigh, “her.” He grins, “A gorgeous, fierce and from what I can see, commanding leader.” he breathes casually between his sentences, “She’s not afraid to slay, that is certain.” he goes on to tell her briefly about how to get there, and vaguely offers his company along the way, seeing as his home is close to Hyaline.

    He quirks his head to the side, a mischievous glint in the eye left uncovered by his forelock. “You don’t seek solitude or peace?” he grins, a trick question; just what kind of woman was he meeting today in the field?


    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall


    Heart
    @[Bardot]
    Reply
    #7
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    “What can I say, I’m a great judge of character.” She responds smoothly, not missing a beat as she gives him a simpering smile in response to his mocking huff. Of course it doesn’t matter what this stallion thinks or even what she thinks of him, however her distaste for herd life is something she likes to be clear on. Not that she blames the kind of mares who long for that simpler quieter life, she just hadn’t been made for such things.

    A brow raises as Chemdog starts to wax poetic about Hyaline’s leader, sounding almost breathless about this Mazikeen. “You sound like you’re in love with her...?” She questions, wondering if perhaps his unwavering devotion for the Alpha had more to do with Chem’s personal feelings and less on her ruling techniques. Still it’s enough to peak her curiosity and she listens to his quick explanation on how to get there, grinning slightly at his offer to play escort. “I didn’t take you for a gentleman but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

    It couldn’t hurt to see what Hyaline was all about. Even if she didn’t end up staying, it would be good to see more of this new world and the horses that inhabit it. Besides, it didn’t look like anyone else was going to come up with a better offer today. Indicating that he should lead the way, she falls into step beside him as they leave the field. Mystery sparkles behind the molten gold of her eyes as he questions her, a knowing smile on her own lips. “No, I’ve had my fill of both.” She had been asleep for so long, a sleep that kept her alone and peaceful until time had awoken her to this new Beqanna. The last thing she wanted was the quietude that peace and solitude had bestowed on her for so long. No, she needs something that will shake up her life and place her exactly where she belongs.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.


    @[Chemdog] I'm down to continue this in Hyaline <3
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