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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


    kids sure like the devil these days [warrick/longclaw/any]
    #1
     
    How long had it been since the palomino crossed into Beqanna's borders - flying, swimming, whatever. She was of the Olde, the Olde Magic, the kind that could turn the tides and sway the ocean. She could set fire to things, she could burn the world down. She could enslave minds. She could she could she could.
    And often, she did.
    Like now, she leads her daughter - cowed, chained mentally, a blinking being where once stood a fierce girl - by an invisible chain. Sure, it dulls her other magic, but what party tricks does she need? She doesn't need to show off any more than she already does. Her name carries weight, meaning, anyone over the age of birth knows of the golden mare that shines like the sun and burns just as deep.

    She crosses the border then into Tephra, her dark eyes scouring the kingdom for the leader. She had a bargaining chip, something to offer.
    Something to sell.
     
    Harmonia
    kids sure like the devil these days and i’m the devil with a black dress on
    #2
    we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
    The osprey keeps his borders tightly watched by his keen eye, his blue and brown body a constant shadow on the golden grasses below. The ocean wind continues to push far beyond the coastline, rippling the inland grasses with salty and forceful blows.

    A duo appears, and he is quick to confront him. Clear, wind-scrubbed skies do not hide his bold form against bright blue, immediately flicking the longer feathers of his wings to turn himself quickly towards them, wing beats echoing across the golden expanse that is lit by the unforgiving rays of the Tephran sun.

    His hooves greet the damp mixture of sand and dune grasses with a solid sound, splattering onto his navy legs and muscular, auburn chest as he settles into a slow walk before them. They are unfamiliar in every way, and the Overseer comes to halt before them with a gleam of interest in his ocean-colored eyes. The smell of salt and smoke and wind curl around the downy feathers of his large wings, which sweep once before folding neatly into his auburn sides, a soft snort leaving his navy nostrils. “You’ve reached Tephra.” She probably knows this, the way she stands isn’t one who did not know things. “I am Warrick, the Overseer. What brings you to us today?”

    The Overseer remembers the words he had just mentioned to Phoebus a few days prior - never let down your guard.
    Warrick


    @[Harmonia]
    #3

    Still in disbelief of his sisters betrayal, he trains harder.  Sharpening his skills, focusing his entirety on the control he holds over the metals around him.  One day -his father tells him- one day you will need to protect your home, your family.  From what, he never specifies but as of recent events(Karat being stolen) he can only assume that it will come sooner than expected...

    Every morning he wakes and walks the communal border of Tephra.  Always ending at the very spot Trekori took Karat.  His eyes would glare blankly out across the ocean and search for her.  Knowing he couldn't possibly see her from here.  Wishful thinking maybe.  With that he turns and heads towards the center of the volcanic kingdom.  A few strides farther and he hears a commotion not far.  Emerald ears flick forwards to capture any clues to who it was and their purpose.  Eyes scan for an image as he comes to a complete stand still.  The voice is a familiar one but who he addresses remains a mystery.  He ponders briefly on if he should just continue on, but something convinces him to access the situation closer.

    Again he moves forwards, using Warricks' voice as guidance. The brushing of his metallic joints clink slightly, revealing his impending presence.  Emerald eyes find a group of equines.  One the obvious form of Warrick and the others he does not recognize.  The rigged stance of the Overseer, causes him to become weary of these newcomers.  It isn't a feeling he is used to.  Tephra was a safe-haven, right?

    Approaching from the side of the gathering, he picks out a place nearest to his ruler.  Stopping beside him with a dip of his head, "Warrick." He addresses the navy-dipped stallion before his attention turns to the others. "Good Day.  I am Kromium, a member of the Tephran army," he simply states, "Is their anything I can assist you with?"  His gaze would suggest his willingness to aid the strangers(which he would if need be) but more accurately he was asking this of Warrick...   

    Kromium

    Blood is Thicker Than Water



    @[Harmonia] @[Warrick] Hope you don't mind my entrance Smile
    #4
    A
    lthough she is not a member of the guard or battalion, Wound also patrols the borders of Tephra. Her reasons are different from theirs — to search for new recruits, to watch for her daughter’s arrival, to enjoy a peaceful walk along the shore — but she cannot deny tendrils of worry burrow in her gut with the tension that rests across Beqanna. Her worry transcribes into endless walks along her kingdom’s shoreline. When she isn’t resting or eating or chatting with other Tephrans, she is walking over rocky beaches and skirting around the foothills of their volcano and splashing through shallow tide pools.

    Despite Warrick lifting the lockdown, they are still on high alert.

    That fact is even more obvious as Wound arrives. She comes to a halt on the other side of the osprey-king (offering a gentle nod toward the metal-clad colt) after coming away from the shadow of the forest with her characteristic lopsided walk. There’s an equally lopsided expression on her face — a mingled look of both carefulness and friendliness. These could be spies from Sylva and Loess, or perhaps they are simply newcomers looking for a home.

    The Head of Peace offers a soft touch of her nose to Warrick’s wither, just in front of the appendage of his navy wing, before turning her coffee eyes toward the pair of mares. “And I’m Wound.” She offers her name but nothing more, certain that Warrick and Kromium have already said anything she might’ve contributed to the conversation.
    credit to nat of adoxography.

    @[Harmonia] / @[Warrick] / @[Kromium]
    #5
     
    It doesn't take long.
    Does it ever?
    Harmonia catches the scent of the flying king well before he lands near Harmonia and Ajatar. She sees him well before, too, her magic mostly occupied by controlling Ajatar and leaving her just enough to enhance her senses. This same enhancement allows her to see the other two - hear, smell, whatever - well before they arrive. All with their eyes turned curious to the mare and her daughter.

    They couldn't be more different. Harmonia takes after her mother - a slight Amazonian warrioress and general for many years, including Alliance winner. Harmonia is slight and as palomino gold as the sun was. Ajatar is a smoked out gray like her father, stocky and large compared to her mother, with snake scales wrapping up her legs and stopping just below her belly. To all appearances Harmonia is normal and Ajatar is - well, normal in this new time of traits and defects - abnormal.

    "Warrick," Harmonia breathes her hello. She knows the name, just the way she knows most names. Knowing, it seems, is the best way to get what you want. "I am Harmonia, and this is my daughter Ajatar. I have a proposition for you." She lets the words sink in, casting a fleeting glance to the two late comers. It's her only acknowledgement.

    Ajatar remains silent, her mind a blank pool that Harmonia has dipped more than just her feet in. If it weren't for reflex she would forget to blink, to breathe, standing there with that expressionless stoicism as her mother offers to sell her off.
     
    Harmonia
    kids sure like the devil these days and i’m the devil with a black dress on
    #6
    The grizzled old shifter is late to this party, though his intentions hadn’t been to show up at all. He wanders Tephra like a lost child these days, slipping in and out of the present while keeping mostly to himself. Longclaw’s children are gone, his herd disbanded some time ago although he suspects the golden canary is around somewhere - their daughter (another wolf) he’s seen plenty.

    So when the raucous clatter of horses gathering and the light banter of introductions reaches his ears, Longclaw is intent on turning aside and slinking off into the humid jungle again. It was best for everyone, and when he glances at them from afar to see Warrick and Wound it spurs him to disappear all the more rapidly -

    Until he sees Ajatar.

    His blue legs suddenly lock, stopping Claw in his tracks before he can make his unknown escape. The warg switches eyes, trading his less effective set for a pair of wolf-enhanced ones and then he sees her clearly enough to know for certain. It coudn’t be anyone else, but the golden mare she travels with is a stranger. Why wasn’t the dark girl speaking, or asking for him? Why had they come to Tephra at all?

    Against better judgement he twists around and trots to join them, nodding respectively in Warrick’s direction before inserting himself at the foremost point of the group. “Ajatar.” He barks, head turning and eyes focusing on the dead-looking expression cloaking her face. For a second his attention flickers to the palomino, but then, “You came back? Did you miss me?” Claw jokes, the flickering embers of his old personality sparking again.

    This is wrong, he knows - Warrick wasn’t one to be interrupted (Wound would forgive him and the other stallion he doesn’t recognize,) but it also seems wrong not to insert himself - She saved his life, once.

    ----

    ooc: I know I'm late to this and I'm so sorry but I just now saw it
    [Image: sScEgld.png]
    #7
    we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
    Kromium joins him, speaking Warrick’s name in greeting which the Overseer responds with by a slight nod of his head in the younger stallion’s direction. However, the deep oceanic eyes of the osprey-King remain on the golden woman and her scaled compatriot, inquisitive as they stand before him. A navy-tipped ear flicks back at the sound of another approaching, nostrils flaring all the while his gaze remains unwavering (piercing, even) on the two strangers. The palomino offers him a name, ears flicking forward and a soft snort leaving him.

    A proposition?

    His eyes slide to the younger of the two - the daughter, Atajar - with slight concern dimming his already stoic expression. She remains silent, however, and does not offer anything more to the conversation save for her steady and silent presence. This unnerves Warrick, but what happens next sets a trickle of doubt in the deep recesses of his mind.

    Warrick’s ear flicks back a second time at the sound of another approaching, yet this time, a flash of familiar blue causes his head to turn towards the figure.

    Longclaw.

    There is an audible snort (loud, confused) that is his only response to the sight of the blue warg, surprise in the Overseer’s cerulean gaze. Even more so as Longclaw appears to know the two, and specifically addresses Atajar so familiarly, and jokingly.

    The whole scene is odd and a bit of a mess, but Warrick tosses his head lightly as if to attempt to smooth away the confusion that still gently presses into the hardened angles of his face. “Harmonia, Atajar,” he addresses them both, despite the silence from the daughter. “Do tell us whatever it is you plan to propose?”
    Warrick


    @[Harmonia]
    #8
    The young stallion simply watches as a solider beside his commander.  If he was needed he would act.  Emerald eyes watch as others arrive.  A mare he recognizes from the meetings and then a brilliant blue stallion he has never had the pleasure of meeting.  A greeting nod is given to each before turning his full attention to the pair of equines he had addressed previously...


    @[wound] Im tagging who may be next... Krom will remain silent unless he is needed or spoken to... 
    #9
     
    "Longclaw," Ajatar says, momentarily breaking through the thick fog of her mothers' mind control. Harmonia did not anticipate that - she expected the girl to be friendless. She was too trusting, too willing, too easily hurt by those in Beqanna. Harmonia knew it was a dog eat dog world, and Harmonia was a bear. She tightened her grip enough for Ajatar's familiarity to wane just enough, for her next words to be as monotone as they should have been. Harmonia frowns, letting a bit of Ajatar go so she doesn't sound like just a zombie. "It is good to see you again," she says. Harmonia tries to dig into her memory to place this stallion but she cannot hold the girl at the same time. She files this away for later.

    "My proposition is this," Harmonia says, twisting her daughter enough to elicit the response she wants. Initially Ajatar only could summon her ability - her disease - when in fear for her life. Lately, though, Harmonia worked through her mind control to force the girl to do it at the drop of a hat. She was slowly teaching the girl control, teaching her to mold the disease between her hands and release it in bouts. She's also learned how to manipulate it. The trait control is a learning experience for Harmonia, who often cried out in glee as she watched the illness spread at her command. Ajatar, who hated to use the gift, was powerless to stop her.

    Twist.

    Harmonia digs and prods and they watch as the illness leaks from the girl. It's invisible, odorless, tasteless...but all around Ajatar the flowers and grass begin to wilt and die. They fall, weakened by the unseen disease. Those who look closely can see a boil appear under a scale on Ajatar's front leg, causing the scale to pop off. The girl doesn't flinch. The disease spreads until it nearly reaches her mother, where it carves a perfect path around her and stops just short of Warrick. Both Harmonia and Ajatar exhale from the effort - Harmonia from controlling her daughter through her power, Ajatar from using it - and Harmonia turns her eyes to Warrick. Maddened, bright with power and drunk on it, Harmonia smiles.

    "This is our proposition."
    Is it a threat?
    A peace offer?
     
    Harmonia
    kids sure like the devil these days and i’m the devil with a black dress on
    #10
    This is Ajatar; her smell permeates his nostrils, distinctly acrid and musky (snake-like) and there’s no doubt that his eyes are deceiving him. How then is this not Ajatar?

    It’s her, but it’s not her. Longclaw smiles when his name pops free from those deadpan lips, and then just as quickly he frowns at her next forced statement. Good … to see him? No, no, not right, the confused hermit thinks. He’s so focused on the blank slate of Ajatar’s gaze that when Harmonia finally pipes up, the warg hardly turns aside to gauge either his King or the newcomer’s reaction. Not until the moment a cough wheezes free from his chest, and then his attention is elsewhere: watching the earth shrivel beneath him as he steps back to avoid her growing plague.

    A snarl, primal and unexpected, rips free from the skin-changers throat at Harmonia's subtle threat. Our proposition?!” He snaps, ears burying themselves in the gleaming tendrils of his mane, “I think you’re a fucking liar.” Claw spits, cheek tilting aside so that one green eye can slide to Warrick. “Something’s not right here - not right at all. Ajatar would never …” The stallion fumes, chest heaving as his sides tremble from rising anger.

    His skin, iridescent and straining tightly against his muscles, begins to grow unbearably hot.

    Again his attention falters back to the smokey mare, brute strength and wild animosity simmering in his boiling eyes before he barks, “Kill me then, Ajatar. Prove you have the gut for it.”

    @[Warrick] @[Harmonia]
    [Image: sScEgld.png]




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