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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


    Anyone.
    #1
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die

    She is lost. Mentally, though this land does seem pretty foreign, too. The field had been promising, but left her feeling useless. Brennen's promise of Ischia had left her floundering without direction or know-how. Sure, the telekinetic could waltz into her chosen kingdom and introduce herself to all found therein, but somehow, she's too petty for that. If Brennen wasn't going to follow through with his part of the deal, then neither was she.

    To Nerine she goes.

    Her smoky figure blends well into the evening scenery - winter causes the sun to set early, but truthfully, night has not come yet. In great billows, her breath rises. The scentline of the kingdom has approached her more quickly than she anticipated, causing her to stop short. Her heart fluttered. In the time before, this interaction could have been quickly maneuvered. She knew the kingdoms, their alignments, how they would most likely react to her antics. Now, however, everything is new.

    Starlin had said that they were remaking the Amazons of old. And although that was not Volcan's kingdom (not that she knew of yet), the thought of having some thread of connection back to the lands that she knew so intimately is enticing. Her stomach churns. She hates the way that everything leaves her anxious, these days.

    Lifting her snout, the young mare trills a call for any to hear. Snow flakes fall into her black mane and cause her to sparkle gently in the strange nighttime light. Without thinking, she grasps at the fallen snow and arranges it into a leopard, the spirit animal that once belonged to the kingdom of warrior women - not that she had ever seen it. Only heard of it, in rumors. She admires the cat - another reminder, of what is gone.

    Of what is lost.
    #2
    sweet as sugar, hard as ice.
    if you hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

    Hestia has known that feeling all too well. It’s something that has haunted her since the last piece of all she treasured had faded away. How does someone just move on when they have built an eternity around an idea that can never exist again? She tried fighting the loss, desperately she tried bringing her treasures back. All her efforts had failed, and she found herself floundering in a world she couldn’t recognize. She couldn’t bring herself to want to like this place. Not for a very long time. But then something happened, she ran into a dear old friend, and like a healing balm he had helped her soul settle.

    She hears someone, but it’s so rare that she answers these sorts of calls that she surprises herself when she begins making her way to this one. Hestia has an inkling, and those have always proved to be good to follow up on. When she does make it up from the beach to the sea grass plain, there stands a mare watching a leopard dance in the air. When she is within hearing distance the black hag sounds an approving purr. There’s a sight I never thought I’d see again, nostalgia washes over her as she watches the remnant of a beloved friend.

    Her tail switches absently and for a moment she remains silent, remembering the thrilling brush of the wild creature caressing them into an unbreakable bond. Hello, she finally turns her attention back to the mare. She’s a little curious as to why the other chose that shape to flit around in this land. Normally Hestia chalks other’s choices up to just simple whims. This feels different somehow and she finds herself wanting to know why. How to frame that into a question she hasn’t quite decided, so the old witch finds herself simply waiting for the right moment. Creating a little small talk in the meantime. What brings you to Nerine?
    Hestia

    @[Volcan]
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
    #3
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die

    She is not alone with the hollow creature for long. An approving purr sounds from within the border of the kingdom, words closely tailing the sound. The image of the creature distorts for a moment as Volcan's mind becomes distracted, but when the realization dawns that this mare is appreciating her creation, she redefines it and sends it stalking between the stranger's legs. For a while, that's all that happens.

    "I never knew her myself," She utters at last, sending the leopard into the mare's legs and releasing her powers, the snow flakes cascading shimmerinly into nothingness. Just as Beqanna intended. Her own eyes refocus at the moment that hers do, a small, uncomfortable smile playing across her lips at the greeting. Interactions like these - not her strong suit.. The snow on the ground swirls as if disturbed by a breeze, but in reality, it is Volcan's nervous twitch, her own form of fidgeting.

    "Hello," Comes her answer, her voice neither low nor high, excited nor withdrawn. "I'm Volcan." She listens for the other mare to offer her name next, and nods when it comes. Hestia. Not a name she recalls, but one that she will remember from now on.

    What brings you to Nerine?

    For a moment, another silence befalls them. Volcan does not gape or gasp or choke on her words; rather, she sits, mulling them over until they can come out in one coherent piece. It's not an easy question to answer. It's not so simple as she makes it seem. "One of your former members, Starlin, told me that this kingdom was formed in remembrance of the Amazons." Her green eyes, piercing, meet Hestia's. "I have recently learned that I am the daughter of Scorch, one of the last Khaleesi's... and she is dead." Her heart squeezes at the admittance, but no emotions shows on her face. She had her time to process when she was told - now, reality must take precedence. "I thought that by coming here, perhaps I could... Respect her memory. Pay homage."

    She smiles, genuinely this time. Mischievously. As her mother would have.

    "Long term."


    I hope you don't mind that I assumed Hestia would introduce herself Wink introductions are always stupid so I'd thought I'd speed the process along.
    #4

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there...
    dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before...
    Loving with a love that was more than love
    - Edgar Allen Poe
    She watches the animal stalk, memories of a similar cat doing the same make her soul ache. A ghost of a smile softens Hestia’s face. She can’t pull her eyes away to read the girls feelings about this, but its clear enough in her voice that she wishes she had seen it. Hestia can’t bring herself to say anything, not when its so close to her she could touch it. A few minutes of it’s prowling, and the shape shatters floating back to the ground dissolving into nothing; as if it had never been. She’s not something you can forget. Absently she replies with the tender words.

    When she hears what had perked the girls interest, Hestia’s attention is immediately snapped to the eyes that mirror her own leafy color. She listens as the girl continues. Scorch, such a familiar name. Hestia swears she should remember it, now it. How is it that you were not raised in the Amazons? Part of her wonders… she remembers a time when all the women were sent out looking for their princess. She hadn’t known the details, only felt the loss, the rage of the Jungle as their queen suffered and they marched through the lands looking for a newborn child that none of them had yet laid eyes on. She couldn’t remember which queen it had been, all of the queens she had served had suffered enormous tragedies. Plus she had been away, spying on one of the kingdoms at the time. Which one had it been? Chamber? Or was it the Dale? She shakes her head clearing the webbing thoughts from her mind. Well I look forward to working with you Volcan; I hope you find what it is that you are looking for here.

    Neither of them could know that in a few days their queen would leave, and Hestia would be able to provide the girl with the means of doing what she came seeking to do here. Thus they stand there, Volcan smiling, and Hestia nodding in acknowledgement. Would you like a tour?
    Hestia
    ©Photo by Stanislav Istratov

    @[Volcan]
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]
    #5
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die


    she’s not something you can forget Hestia says, and despite ration and reason, Volcan feels a stab of...something. It’s odd to think that she, supposedly, was intended for this life, in a kingdom she couldn’t even remember, intended for a life she would never get the chance to experience...all up in smoke, smoke and ash.

    Instead of sisters and tropical jungle and snakes and fucking ladders, she got...what? ”I don’t know.” says the smokey woman in answer to Hestia’s question, her eyes seemingly magmatic, churning beneath the surface with the kind of intensity that only volcanoes know.

    And then, she relinquishes a breath, and it melts away. She takes a deep breath, fresh air, that tastes like seawind and not embers. Nerine - a sort of new start for them all, and perhaps for her as well?

    ”I don’t know,” she says again, giving her head a shake (as if the thoughts that fogged her mind could be shed with a simple movement of the head). ”All I know is that I was meant to be born an Amazonian, but instead I tumbled into existence on some dune, wet and sandy and mewling for a mother I’d never know.”

    Of course, she doesn’t remember it herself but she has been told it many times. ”Vanquish found me. King Vanquish, of the Deserts, did you know him? He saved me and raised me as his own.” She wishes he was still alive, she could use his advice now. What would he say? Did he know anything that might’ve yielded answers? If only dead men could speak, if only kingdoms could rise up again, if only, if only.

    Hestia offers her a tour and Volcan nods gratefully. ”Yes, please.” she says, following the woman deeper into the kingdom.



    ooc: we can consider this thread wrapped up now, no need to reply. just gonna assume that hestia showed her around etc. etc.
    p.s. sorry if it feels like the tone changed in this thread - am her new player aaaaand trying to figure her out still.




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