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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


    breathe through me - ELYSIUM, any
    #1





     
    I’m not really sure what I came to the Field expecting to find. Someplace to go, obviously – what the hell other purpose do people wander in here for – but I honestly hadn’t spent any time picturing what that place would be. I’d lived in Beqanna my whole life so I had a passing familiarity with all the places an equine could live – herds, the traditional kingdoms, the Jungle. None of them screamed home when I thought of them, but then I’d never actually visited any of those places, and how could you tell if a place would fit you, could be your home, if you’d never even seen it? I wasn’t the kind of girl who’d spent her childhood chasing butterflies and daydreaming about my future. Nope; most of my childhood had been spent teaching myself how to survive and trying to keep my whore of a mother out of trouble. At least until she’d disappeared for good somewhere before my second birthday. Probably got knocked up again – who the fuck knows how many siblings (half-siblings more likely) I had running around? But the point is, my life wasn’t spent imagining my future or someplace called home, so the Valley seemed as good a place as any to try out first. And like Elysium said – if I got bored I could always leave again.
    I let the moth-man lead the way to the Valley; I probably could have found the place on my own, but what’s the point of expending all that effort when you’ve got an insider around to find it for you? As we cross the mountains the air gets cooler, and I lash my tail against my hindquarters. The warmth of the spring sun had been nice in the Field, and while it’s still warm enough here, the mountains give a decidedly different feel to the scenery. Not that I gave much of a damn about scenery really; one tree was the same as another to me. 
    I don’t say much as we cross the border into the Valley. Part of that’s because I’m not exactly a talker – people tend to just piss me off, so I’ve never put much effort into my socialization skills. But another part of it is that I just don’t really know what to ask. I feel like I should probably know things about this place if I’m going to make an honest effort of checking it out as a potential place to crash, but what the fuck do you ask to figure that shit out? He’s already told me the basic set-up, the name of the king – what else is there to know really? Hell, how should I know – I’ve never lived in a kingdom before.


    Amoxia

    Buckskin Friesian/Anglo-Arabian hybrid  mare
    Gunsynd x Soulgasm



     
    @[Krys]
    #2

    Gazing at the moonlight, satan comes close to me.
    He says you can have everything if you leave your soul with me

    It’s been a long time since he wasn’t the one leading new faces from the field and to the Valley. Elysium had been doing a truly amazing job at recruiting their newest group and it was definitely recognized by the Jaguar spotted king of the Valley. He could almost say that without friends like Rhonan and Elysium, he never would have gotten the Valley out of its dead state and slowly crawling back to life a second time.

    It is late afternoon when Demian begins to move about, quietly stepping through the trees without the use of fire for sight. His eye sockets sit in his skull empty, the scar tissue from the third degree burns easily noticed by anyone up close. It is the way the spring brings with it a cool breeze that gets him moving, silently wandering along the border. It was morning when Elysium had left and there had been no sign of him since. It almost made him worry, yet he knew doing so was ridiculous. The six legged stallion could easily take care of himself.

    Ever since the two had met, they had become close friends, their unique characteristics and qualities binding them together like a close knit stitch and together they were putting forth a paired effort. It was hard to say how life would be for him if Elysium hadn’t arrived the day he had taken the Valley back under his control. Silence had rung throughout the kingdom when Rhonan and Demian had crawled from the shadows and with little effort, they took their home and began to build it. Then came Elysium and the few others but among them the moth-like stallion had stood out the way a single star in the night sky shines brightly for all to see.

    Demian had been one of the most unusual Valley king’s thus far. His kind nature and encouraging belief in those he surrounded himself with was a complete three sixty to the typical type of king or queen expected to rule the ancient kingdom. Unlike the past, Demian strove to rule his kingdom fairly, kindly and without a temper. He had come to learn that using sugar was better than using spice when you needed to lead a group, no matter how different the varying faces were.

    It had also become a known fact throughout Beqanna that Demian was filling the Valley kingdom with Beqanna’s most unusual whether it meant characteristics, traits, or personality, Demian encouraged them to call the Valley home. Some may call it a circus, or a freak show. But to him it was nothing like that. It was simply where those who couldn’t fit in, or felt they could not, were able to live and call home without judgement, without hate. And most of all, without fear. Here those types of faces could be successful, wanted and cared for and nobody could say otherwise.

    And he found he liked them all. From the most skittish to the angriest, he had a hard time disliking anyone he had the pleasure of meeting, and you could easily point out that some of the king’s greatest friends were the grouchiest of creatures. He always found some sort of humor in their demeanors and he had been known to occasionally call them his favorite ‘grouchy grandpas or grandmas’.

    It is during his walk that he hears the hoof beats approaching and coming to a stop, he turns towards the line where the border came to a halt and he stood silently, waiting. It took only seconds but soon the wind carried the recognizable scent of Elysium and the sound of his six hooves along with the scent and sound of a mare he could not place. She carried the scent of the field on her coat and with a slight twitch of the corners of his lips, he finds himself with a crooked smile decorating his lips once they are close. “Hello,” his voice is deep, relaxed. “Welcome home Elysium,” he nods in the direction the sound of their hooves is coming from before turning his head slightly to where the mare walked next to the moth-man.

    “And Welcome, to the Valley,” He nods slightly towards her, a sign of respect. “I’m Demian.” And for now that’s all he said. He found no use in supplying her more. For what fun would that be?

    Demian



    yay for sleep deprived posting! :|




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