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  • Beqanna


    Assailant -- Year 226


    "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

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    [open]  [hic sunt leones]
    Nocturnéahic sunt leones
    One land dies, another springs forth from its ashes. That was the way of eternity.

    Night lay thick on Bequanna's ruins, casting everything in sharp contrast of moon and shadow. Deep within the darkness, the lady formed once more. Tendrils of shadow twisted, writhed, and came to life in the form of the dark goddess. For the first time in years, golden eyes blinked away the haze of sleep. Nocturnéa rolled her shoulders, letting her claws stretch and rake the rubble beneath her paws. A shake of her head tossed long locks of ebony against her thick neck, revealing the curling rams horns that twisted about her crown. The last tendrils of shadow became a long lion's tail that swung languidly against her hocks.

    Oh, how she had missed being corporeal.

    Those shrewd golden eyes, slitted and cat-like, looked with interest and disdain upon this strange new land. All around her, the realm bore the marks of great battles lost and won over the ages. Beneath her feet, the leftovers of a once great castle were little more than pebbles and moss-covered cobblestones. A quiet whisper of wind echoed hauntingly through the abandoned place. In the distance, she could hear the crash of mighty waves against a rocky shore and the taste of sea salt settled upon her tongue.

    "Well well well... where have the gods deposited me now?
    "Vocalization." | Actions | Companion
    OOC | The queen of the night descends upon Bequanna! feel free to come and bother her.
    Not often does she wander with an empty conscience, though the evening brings reluctant solace. Her mind was never completely bare, no, she wishes it were so easy. Just when she seems to forget, enjoy the quiet rapture that is nothing, she's sent spiraling into the cosmic void time and time again left with a hollowed view of what lies ahead. It's moments like these Famkee doesn't know wether to appreciate her gift given by the magic that haunts the endless hills, or to regret her valiant attempts at saving a land she never even knew. Some karmic ties she had yet to sever, to be vastly owned by her past, only to be given fickle images of the future. Something drew her here tonight, and as hard as she tries to ignore it the more the flashes of fate persist, tangling the familiar likeness of the ruins, a place she had nearly forgotten. 

    The night is clear, the moon in it's full phase casting light to the barren plunders of stone. As of late, it was a chore to sleep or to get any sort of rest, so she decides to allow herself the opportunity to revisit desolate soil, it feels nostalgic beneath her hooves. It's not like she could reject her visions, they only receded when she surrendered to them, quite a task for the stubborn unicorn. Perhaps an opportunity to release her, some sort of irritating lesson to learn, nevertheless she struggles to make peace with the fact of having to yield. The warrior although intrigued to explore the ruins once more, sticks to the sidelines of the scattered treeline, observing the dilapidated boulders in their entirety. Flashes of creatures from the sea and sky shown to her from ancient battles riddles her thoughts, the once tall sound structures before her, lost to frenzied magic and torn to bits in the fray. A strange feeling twists her gut, scanning the remnants. War was all too familiar to the soldier, and perhaps it's why it entraps her soul in the way that it does. 

    If it weren't for the moons pale face, Famkee might have missed the shadow lurking in the darkness. She lets a breath release through her nostrils that she wasn't aware she was harboring, golden eyes threatening to roll and disappear into the back of her skull. Was she always to run into another soul when she desperately coveted and valued solitary tendencies? She watches her with a half lidded gaze, trailing over her form. Black as the night, horned as she was only a different class, resembling that of an Ovis. What the stranger could achieve with those in battle Famkee ponders, creating a glint of curiosity inside golden jewels. Battering, she supposes, like a ram, opposed to hers, made for slicing or goring. Another notable trait was her feline like forelimbs, along with a tail, slender and smooth, akin to the twilight. She looked as though she belonged here, the night that is, and it doesn't come to much of a surprise that she finds a creature like her here, looming through the dimness. Perhaps she is already aware of her presence, but she doesn't make much effort to introduce herself, only a few half hearted steps in her direction. Thick ebony tendrils of her tail slap at muscled flanks, ears placed attentively forwards, she speaks. "The moon gave you away. But I doubt you were trying to hide."    

     [Image: EOU990v.png] Famkee [Fahm-key]


    I doze fitfully. In the hopes of finding some semblance of peace, I’ve come to one of my favorite spots. Cradled in the earth and ruins in a hollow undisturbed by wind and rain though the ocean is not far, I twitch and and shiver, my spine and mouth filled with a cloying, choking sense of dread. I wake with a start, blinking the nightmares away, sides heaving, but I make no sound. Never make a sound. I shift my weight and leave the sandy loam I’d bedded down on, blinking against the soft darkness and stifling a yawn. Something had woken me, prodded me from my sleep. Though I am no longer as on edge as I was in those first few months, I think I might never know what safe is and my heartbeat is heavy and loud. I listen for a few moments, but I hear nothing but the distant crash of waves. There is no pull of strong magic - that unique heavy feeling that beckons to what’s in me, like a siren singing a ship to dash itself on her rocks …

    They’re upwind of me when I finally peer out from my hiding place. The slight breeze, tasting of brine and tameless freedom, brings me only snatches of what the first says. I’ve not seen her before, but that doesn’t mean anything. Though Beqanna is my home, it’s been a long time since I’ve been free to do anything but their bidding. A very long time.

    I watch her for a moment, measuring the dark grace with which she carries herself, before I turn and slink through the rear exit of my hiding place, climbing the soft sand that spills into the belly of the ruin. I am taking care not to expose myself but freeze when I hear a different yet equally unfamiliar voice. I am trying to hide, I think in response, swallowing hard and sparing the bright celestial body a quick glare. My mouth is dry, nerves tingling with self-preservation, but when I turn to face the disembodied voice, the second isn’t even looking in my direction. My stomach clenches with relief and I turn to slip away into the night. Unfortunately, I don’t see the partially exposed bit of rock until I trip over it, going down on my knees as if I were still an ungainly foal and not a colt whose seen the seasons nearly twice over now. I scramble to my feet, knees stinging where they scraped against the rock’s rough surface, and wheel around to face the two who’ve no doubt heard my clumsy attempts at skulking away.

    @Nocturnéa @Famkee
    Nocturnéahic sunt leones
    The solitude of the waves and night were quickly interrupted by the presence of another. The newcomer was not as strangely formed as the dark one, but still a sharp horn protruded from her forehead. Nocturnéa could presume from that alone that the answer to her initial, albeit rhetorical question, was that she had ended up in a land not unlike many others she had inhabited. In the eons where her form had flitted between worlds, dust floating amidst he vast darkness of the stars, there had been many places that were touched by strange and wondrous magics.

    As the voice of the other female drifted across the air between them, Nocturnéa felt a soft chuckle rumble up the column of her throat. ”You would be correct. If I wanted to remain unseen, my teeth would be around that pretty throat before you ever knew I even existed.” Though the ebony female’s body remained passive, her words were a sultry promise. She was not threatening the golden one, perhaps… but Nocturnéa was often more feline than equine. Still, the other woman’s build was clearly one of a warrior, thick and muscled. She was not unlike the dark goddess herself - both were not dainty, delicate females. This observation, however, was somewhat of a comfort. Nocturnéa despised the weak and infirm. At least, thus far, her view of this strange new world was favorable.

    And then the two became three. The final member of the triad stumbled in like a newborn colt, tripping over the rocks and rubble that were strewn about the ruins. Golden eyes slitted, silently judging the second newcomer. This one was younger, a male, and it looked as though he’d been trying to skulk away from the warrior women. A snort erupted from ebony nostrils, and Nocturnéa slid her neck out towards the young stud like a snake.”And just where do you think you’re going, cub?” The woman finally, languidly, stepped from the shadows and fully into the moonlight. Claws peeked out from beneath heavy feathers upon her front legs, glinting in the light and scraping against stone. Two steps, that was all she needed to reveal the strangeness of her feline grace. A warrior woman and a bumbling, timid young stallion were the first to greet her in this new world? How… interesting.
    "Vocalization." | Actions | Companion
    OOC |

    @Famkee @Meyer
    In the heart of the ruins, life crept it's way from the depths to congregate here, bringing a sense of light in the melancholy sediment. The hue of the air is nearly blue, painting the nights atmosphere beneath the starlit sky. It would be peaceful to her, if not for the stranger. Not that the dark mare generates discomfort, but more of an awareness, creating the subtleties of alertness to appear inside golden eyes. Despite this, Famkee remains virtually uninterested, that is until the creature decides to respond with a mocked chuckle, her words threatening but in a way the unicorn has heard before, too many times. In a twisted sort of way, this excites her. She greets the shadow dancer with a grin of her own, pulling at the corners of her lips with a vexing scorn. Ah, if only she knew. 

    "You underestimate," a brief pause lingers from her throat as swirling snake like light ignites, slithering up the serrations of her horn, traveling to the depths of her eyes, blazing in its intensity. As if the sun peeks it's face over the horizon, invoking dawn in their little piece of darkness. "always the first mistake." Spiteful, yet out of respect for the both of them, the unicorn mirrors her body language, but matching the challenge inside venomous words. Though she isn't particularly searching for a quarrel, the soldier was always ready. She can feel the age old thirst begin to boil her blood, what a delightful sensation, it chewed at her bones, begging to be set free.

    It's not long before another presence lingers, she can sense it, borderline tasting the hesitance wafting through the night. Sparing a glance in the perceived direction, her senses do not betray her, nor is she greatly alarmed by the next stranger. A clumsy one at that, the falling stones return to the rubble to which they came in his attempt to unsuccessfully sneak by. She sees why fairly quickly; adolescence. "Perhaps you should take some lessons on sneaking." Though directed at the young stallion, her gaze cuts back to the black mare, then returning to the colt, splayed from his tumble as an amused grin curves her mouth quietly. The strange mare doesn't take lightly of the situation, spitting in the face of his mistake. "It seems the ruins bring quite the crowd." Annoyingly so. The amusement carries through her voice, though a soft pinch furrows her brow in a feigned attempt at concern. "Are you alright?" She asks him, lowering her gaze to observe the scrapes the rocks had torn at his flesh.  

    @Nocturnéa @Meyer
     [Image: EOU990v.png] Famkee [Fahm-key]


    I’m angry.

    Not because of those two present, nor at myself for so clumsily revealing myself. No this anger is an old one, a black, rioting mass of hatefire deep in my belly. It’s an ugly thing healed and made new over and over; because every so often I scratch and peel at it until it is raw again. I poke and prod at it, stirring the muck from the bottom so that the waters are never still or clear. I’ve done this so many times, and I’ve nursed it so long, that it now has a life of its own. I can no more be rid of it than I can of a limb or a lung; or these damned powers that are, ironically, the very source of much of my anguish.

    She can’t know it - rather, it’s always a possibility in Beqanna, but I well know the sensation of someone invading every corner of one’s mind - but it’s this black anger that lashes out when the first mare snakes toward me. She demands something from me and I will not give. I pin my ears, nostrils clenched, teeth clacking on empty air as I snake my neck back toward her in return. I shift my weight on sore knees and wring my tail in agitation, eyes narrowed to disguise my rattled nerves.

    I’m still glaring at her when the other asks if I am ok, catching me off guard. I turn to look at her with surprise, the feeling followed quickly by suspicion. In my experience, they never care if you’re okay for your own sake; ulterior motives are always there, lurking beneath the surface of a smile that doesn’t reach the eyes and a well-worded bit of sentiment. I scowl again. Now that I know the possibilities that life holds when one is untethered and becomes a steward of their own destiny, I’ll not bend. Not in mind, nor body or spirit.

    “Go away!” I think, full of discomfort and that unsettled feeling that comes with having your sanctuary disturbed. But, “I’m fine,” is what I say, my tone curt, clipped. I glance back toward the dark one, the she who called me cub. My youth was long a weapon against me, shackled by my perceived helplessness and naivete. It’s because of this and, ironically, my youth, that I cannot appreciate the moniker and instead take offense. “Why are you here?”

    mercy! sooo sorry that took so long, life has been kicking my behind recently
    @Nocturnéa @Famkee

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