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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


    [mature]  i can see through the scars inside you; lokii
    #1
    For a while she had felt quite reluctant to leave the Taiga, perhaps anxious that it'd be ripped away once again. She was not worried about losing it itself exactly, but instead worried of being without the option of being there. Sometimes at night she would dream of the entire forest sunk into the ocean, skulls with eyeless holes and wide open jaws, waterlogged skin sloughing off the bone (tender). And then sometimes it was fire and air as thick as sap, and she could taste the ash and singed hair. She woke up from those ones gagging, usually. But they were just dreams, not visions. The visions always felt real, and sometimes they were feelings or passing images, patterns and fractals and semi-images. Regularly death, regularly regularly destruction and decay and the bleak, empty eternity of the future. The Taiga's future, though, was a black hole, frustrating in the intensity and wideness of its blankness. She saw nothing, she felt nothing, she heard nothing. 

    Regardless, the redwood forest had not fallen yet. She felt it though, the itch in her feet which bade her to move on. It could not support her anyway, and while she did quite enjoy eating the rabbits (since they were trying to sabotage Kolera's efforts of regrowing the Taiga, after all), she could not live off rabbits forever. She makes her way across the river, into the Forest. Hunting was always hit and miss here; there tended to be too many equines, too much of a chance of the alarm being raised. But there were also many deer here, and deer always made a good meal.

    This time, she is successful. With her stomach full and a halo of blood still smeared around her mouth, she shifts back into her horse form to lie down briefly, to rest, to digest. Perhaps spoilt by the tranquility and safety of the Taiga, she ends up falling asleep, and dreams, once again, of the entirety of Beqanna being swallowed by the sea.

    @[Lokii]
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    #2
    He’s seen worlds fall apart too many times. He cannot deny he loves it (the way the trees split and ache, the way the ground rumbles and groans, the way they run and cry, the way the fire sets in to melt away their homes). It sends chills down his spine and it sedates the most greedy of his inner workings. He loves destruction (and the chaos that follows it); he’s loved it his entire life.

    As Sylva is melted (from the chopped, bitter pieces of the white wraith’s laboratory) and reconstructed (into the cheery, warm place it might become, god save them), the trickster leaves without a word. The situation of Sylva’s undoing is the very reason why he finds himself not-so-involved in many matters, at least where it counts. He will always serve chaos, but kingdoms mean little to him. He’s seen them destroyed and rebirthed differently, he’s seen them torn apart and put back together similarly — but he will never hold affection for them.

    Perhaps he once considered the Valley to be his home, but his shadowy foothills are only found in the past.

    He stumbles upon her in the forest, heading back toward the more social corners of Beqanna after departing Sylva. The splash of deep red against her lips interests him (he stops there, where he might have otherwise side-stepped) and his angular face dips down to run a tongue over her lips. Blood. His touch might wake her, but he nudges under the softness of her throat to considerably shake her from her dreams.

    “You might want to clean that off,” he says, bruised eyes staring down at her with a mischievous grin. He’s had more than a few murders himself (too many to count, in fact) and he knows his way around the process of the aftermath. “If you don’t wipe it off soon, it’ll stain. And then your ass will be dead.”
    LOKII


    @[Anastazja] Sorry this took so long! My Lokii muse has been blegh lately <33
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