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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


    [TAKEOVER]  there is no wondering now
    #1
    GALADRIEL

    The only blessing Galadriel needed to go after what she wanted was her own, but she did find herself hesitating at the thoughts of another. When she murmured her desires expectantly up to him, she was delighted to see his quiet pleasure. Perhaps not a blessing, but Rel isn’t entirely convinced she would have stopped even if he had said no.

    The water-weaver stands quietly at the bank of the small pond she has taken up residence next to. Her legs waver in and out of flesh and water, expectantly flexing her magic like one might anxiously flex their fingers. She glances backward, studying the silent hollow beneath a raised redwood root that she has claimed as her bed.

    Late-morning mist evaporates as she ponders, as close to nervous as she’ll ever be.

    When that tiny spattering of nerves dissipates, Rel peers up at the loosely woven Taigan canopy. The wretched heart in her chest pounds irregularly as she calls out a greeting, a challenge, and a demand.

    This was to be hers, now—simply because she wanted it.



    @ everyone lol
    activity
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    oops I forgot this one lmao
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    #2



    I'll taste the sky and feel alive again


    The scattering sound of a started bird woke him from his sleep today, abrupt and unexpected. Blinking at the early morning light, he wondered vaguely what had sent it into the air so suddenly. 

    He wasn't left to wonder long. A shrill cry reverberated off the rough barked trees, demanding in its tone. It was early for a visitor. Still, not unheard of. Shrugging off the memories of sleep, the moon lighted stallion strode off in the direction he thought the sound had originated. 

    He didn't have to go all the way to the edge of the forest land, as it turned out. Instead it was the exposed roots of a fallen giant he was lead to, a natural occurring playground he and his sisters had inhabited as children. Those were days when play came easily and the structures of adulthood had seemed an eternity away. Now he found himself returning with responsibility in mind, without sisters to dash between sequoias at his side. 

    The summoner was a stranger. Blue as the churning ocean that bordered Nerine, with Agitation dogging her pacing steps like drum beats. He paused at the edge of the clearing, stars trailing him in an ephemeral cloak that faded in and out as he walked through patches of morning light. There was something odd about her legs, something he couldn't quite settle on without the rudeness of staring. Instead his gaze settled on her expression.

    "You're a new face," his baritone chimed. "Have you just arrived? I've been away to witness my sister's coronation, I'm afraid, I apologize if I missed you." Flaxen tail weaving through the cool air, he smiled at her with a welcoming ease.

    Reynard

    Image by Calcifer

    @galadriel
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    #3
    GALADRIEL

    “No, actually,” Galadriel answers with a quiet coolness, head tilting as she observes Reynard. He certainly smells of the North, if not a little smothered by the climate of Loess—and he looks the part of a Northerner: gruff with a warm smile that doesn't quite hide how tightly closed-off these people are.

    “I’ve been here a few days now,” she finally adds after sufficiently raking her gaze over the goat-hybrid. Those violet eyes gleam with endless desires and endless questions as they meet the honey-brown of her companion’s. She considers saying nothing else, letting this stranger stew by himself over what she is obviously meant to do. He is the only one to arrive, after all.

    But she thinks she is a better leader than that, yes; and if Galadriel is to do all the things she wishes to do, she will need to make allies even with those she doesn’t care if they are her enemies.

    The people of this land, she does not want as her enemy; and truthfully, she does care for them. Just not in the way they are used to.

    “Congratulations to this sister of yours,” Rel purrs, then murmurs, “Perhaps I should have a coronation of my own.”



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    #4



    I'll taste the sky and feel alive again


    He smiled at her, despite the chill radiating from the lithe mare. It was like standing beside a flowing river, the air cooler the closer he got to the sea blue woman. She was, he realized, very close to his own age. Pretty too, if he let himself dwell on it. There was a frigidness to her demeanor that inhibited such thoughts, however. A river on the verge of freezing over. 

    He tilted his head to one side, taking in the history of the place for a moment. He didn't have far to go, she'd been honest when she'd said it had been only a few days since she'd been in this place. Still, echoes of Desperation and hungry Want had seeped into the ground at her feet, the roots of the trees. 

    Her following coy suggestion gave him an inkling of what she might be after, enough to draw a crease of concern between his brows. "Coronations are for Queens and Kings," he replied lightly, knowing she was likely neither. "If you're looking for a home, however, Taiga is as good a place as any. Better, with the changes my parents brought about." 

    He nodded at the towering trees, decked in silvery needles that caught the light when the wind touched them. One of many alterations his family had worked for. "Forgive me, I'm being rude," he shook himself at the realization. "I'm Reynard, son of Yanhua and Amarine," the names twinged on his tongue, bittersweet.

    Reynard

    Image by Calcifer

    @galadriel
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    #5
    GALADRIEL

    Reynard must certainly be mistaken in his sensing of desperation. There is nothing desperate in Galadriel’s quiet ascertaining of Taiga’s unguarded borders. Hunger, sure—but the sickly feeling of desperation? Rel shed that kind of emotion when she met Reave for the second time, shed the last remnants of it once she realized she had survived Hera’s trials.

    But Galadriel doesn’t know of his misinterpretation, so her lip doesn’t curl in the sneer that would appear if she did. Instead, she smiles and dips her head in the benevolent way she’s studied others do. She doesn’t even bother to tell him she most certainly knows what a coronation is. A sort of sadness wells in her chest for the goat-hybrid, one deeply unfamiliar to her. Rel doesn’t know what abandonment is like, but she does know loss, even if it is not intimately.

    “You’re not being rude at all,” she murmurs, violet eyes glimmering.

    Galadriel turns to look out over the fog and the redwoods, the roots she’s taken to slumbering over, before replying with, “I’ve already decided this will be my home, Reynard. My name is Galadriel.” She pauses, the smile on her face turning into something genuine.

    “Will you show me what changes your parents made?”




    @Reynard
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