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    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


    [open]  [Any] lets make a fast plan, watch it burn to the ground
    #1

    she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
    try her boy but she'll still do what she please

    As a beast of habit she is vulnerable to repetition and circle: and in this moment history does indeed mimic itself, and she… in her own way, follows through with some ancient ripple of what was and what had been. 

    Vine and fern, the mossy rock and thick canopy- the low mist of the jungle: she walks through it, paces and carries herself down trails and paths- over hill and down again in time. Patrolling the edges of vast territory she recalls this from another time, and remembers the days of the gray mare: stubborn and frustrating, a creature of harsh words that lacked sugar.

    Prague.

    Her lips curl into a scowl and Aysel can only think of how she used to walk the Amazons- how she used to watch the Jaguars and Panthers lazy in their trees as they soaked the sun in the wake of their kills. She recalls the smell of the loamy mist and earthy soil, the taste of sweet-leaves and of flowers that only existed in that place. Still, she is more so stalled suddenly by the sound of shifting branches and of rattling leaves, the rocks moving and the ground beaten in light thuds.

    Whimsy and careless her daughter appears through the shrub and foliage, through the brush, and Segolene saunters to her mother with a newborns spindly legs and drunken awkwardness. She brushes the fluffy mane with her nose and ruffles the girl’s neck- her eyes falling to the spatterings of gray and the blanket on her back… the spots of color so bold and dark.

    Contrasted by the vibrancy of her mother’s own red, Segolene is stand out and Aysel remains with the girl before urging her forward and guiding her through nettle and vine: through the tree line and into a more open space. Without huff or panic she lingers, allowing the child to play and run- watching and considering all things as she peers around Tephra. 

    Aysel
    #2

    To say it was hot in here would be the understatement of the century.  But I guess that's how you forge iron.  Melting it and melding it until something grander becomes of it dull natural form.  Like me.  I am a creation of earth and body.  The bodies of my siblings to be exact.  Or my parents if you care to look at it that way.  But unlike most of the living creatures, I was not procreated.  I did not grow inside a womb nor was I born.  The earth has protected me until now, the day of resurrection. 



    It starts as a small rumbling of the ground.  Something that you could mistake as nothing more than the volcano heaving another flow of melted rock to flow down its steep sides.  No stream widens and when the earth quiets you return to your travels.  Or whatever else mortals do on any given day.  But you may notice a crevice has opened up in the Tephra soil.  Upon inspection you find nothing of interest and continue on your way.  You may not have seen the small boulder as anything than what it may have seemed to be; a rock.  If you had waited a moment or two, you would have seen a movement, an unearthing.  Unraveling of two iron wings and four legs, a being rises to shake the dust from her body.

    She doesn't seem to be all that strange at first.  A deep purple pegasus isn't anything extraordinary in this world.  But as the sun shines down onto her, you would see each unique part glimmering in the light.  Bits and pieces of the fillies small body is something entirely different than equine, even though it holds a natural shape.  Her wings stretch with a scraping sound of metal on metal as they expand.  Her hooves are not soft like most newborns.  They are quite the opposite.  The usual fluffy mane of young foals, is replaced by bristled fibers that stand erect along her crest.  And when she looks at you, her face is anything but adorable.  At least to most who don't understand just what she is.  She is created of iron.  

    She is Kreation.

    .

    With the rise and fall of my newly found hooves, they click along the stone with a most irritating noise. 
    Clip, clip, CLIP!  
    That's about enough to drive a baby horse batshit.  No more of that nonsense.  Grass.  That'll sound much better.  
    Thud, thud, THUD! 
    Ah fuck whatever.

    The humid air here is hard to breathe and man that smell.  Something die or what?!  My eyes look around as if to find a source of the sulfur stench.  Not seeing anything but stone and greenery, I continue.  A beaten path looks like the best place to begin my journey.  Not like I really have many options anyways.  Not stepping back onto that annoying hard junk.

    In an attempt to figure out these large metal fans at my sides, I shuffle them while watching with my normal eye to see what they do. 
    Squeak, squeak, SQUEAK
    OH Christ!  Apparently I am a one man band for musical annoyances.  Not finding another useful purpose for them, I fold them to my sides and focus on the world around me.  Maybe it wasn't as irritating as I find myself.

    In the distance I believe to see a pair of horses.  One larger and one merely a speck.  Someone my age perhaps.  Maybe they knew where my caretakers were, seeings I just woke up alone in the middle of nowhere they must not be very good at caretaking...

    "Hey there," I shout bluntly.  I decide the sound of my voice isn't so bad.  Quickening my pace to a thudthudthud, I come within a more appropriate distance for speaking. "Hello,"  testing a smile for the first time was tricky but I think I accomplished my goal.  The iron wings at my side jet outwards with excitement, slicing the air with a woosh.  Shit. Better not do that too close to someone.  Might cut off a head. 
    Or worse... 

    Kreation
    Shoot me down; But I won't fall


    @[Aysel] Hi ^.^ hope you don't mind weird terminator baby lol
    #3

    she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
    try her boy but she'll still do what she please

    Metal grinding together has a sound very specific to it, and while she had only heard it a few times from those ferrum-based equines scattered: this is strange in how close and clumsy it sounds. Like a great mechanical dragon taking a breath it exhales and groans, the sharp sound of its wheeze forcing Aysel to look about and notice the small creature. Chromed and lavender, and shaped like a child; but with wings: and she blinks, not that she startled simply that she must adjust herself when taking it all in.

    The brilliant red and spattered gray shifts as she reaches out her long neck and elicits a whistle to the girl, to Kreation. She watches the clumsy pace and the adjustments to her body: listening to all the creaking and grinding- to the strange sounds and their origins. Segolene, too, has noticed and she bounds close to her mother and peers at Kreation hesitantly: this being her first sight of someone with blessings and magic.

    “Hello child,” Aysel pauses, her ears swiveling and the great cat watching. “You are alone, is your mother nearby? Or caretaker, rather.” genuine and soft she ponders the nature of the girl and of the method that she was born from; but she asks none of it and instead waits a precious few moments before allowing Segolene to standing idly close- looking Kreation over.

    “She’s shiny Mama.” the filly quips, sniffing and offering the girl a smile. “Hi I’m Segolene, you look really neat.” gentle and fawn-like she steps forward, bouncing about and coming back to wander.

    Aysel
    #4

    I guess by the looks of this pair, I am anything but normal.  The ridged lines separating silver-lavender metal and deep amethyst is something strange but I don't dwell on their questioning eyes.  Or the foal that steps up to me with awestruck wonder.  Turning my face just the slightest to allow the filly to examine my metal bits.

    The girl states her name and I mull over it for a moment.  Maybe long enough for them to question if I know my own name.  But a smile eventually comes on my seemingly dark lips, when a name does surface, "My name is Kreation... With a K of course." I wink at the filly as though this may be some sort of underlying joke that only we understand.

    My attention diverts to the elder of the group.  A point being made that I am indeed alone.  But I don't feel alone.  I have images stored in my cranium as to who I am searching for and oddly enough, names come to mind.  My life is one puzzle piece after another, slowly forming a bigger picture.

    "I am sure they are here somewhere.  Though I do not mind their absence.  Krom can be rather suffocating ya know," I muster a chuckle of sorts.  "Do you know my family?"  I inquire, having not really met them myself but something deep within me tells me all I need to know. But it would be nice to have others opinions...
     

    Kreation
    Shoot me down; But I won't fall


    @[Aysel]
    #5

    she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
    try her boy but she'll still do what she please

    Young and naive, she understands little of the jest- but her tiny ears swivel and interest remains on the very girl in front of her. Freshly exposed to the world she’s not aware of how the metal formed this shape, how Kreation has come to be; but she is, and for that enough Segolene is accepting of the reality before her. She sniffs, politely, but does not find the metallic tang unpleasant nor the touch of sulfur likely lingering from the very volcano she’d come from. Radiant heat- if any, deters her strictly because a primal instinct in her mind says that it may burn; but Segolene is curious enough to weave around and wander, to walk between the overly tall and long legs of her mother like some sort of young jaguar.

    The world, to her, smells new: it’s every flower and tree a thing to be explored. Yet she is not impolite and so she stays close to Aysel and Kreation, aware of her mother’s interest in the child. Patient she waits, but before Aysel can speak she does interrupt. “Kree… aye… shun.” she sounds it out, making sure to elaborate on syllables and sounds: the tiny nostrils flaring and her eyes widening as she confirms it. “Kreation, pretty. Look mama, she’s purple- like a flower!” quick to point out the wilf clover patches and other plants Segolene trots about- studying her own limbs in an almost spidery fashion.

    “Why am I not purple? Why aren’t you purple?” she questions and Aysel sighs deeply. The Elder mare lifting her head and noting the way her daughter tangles herself in her own spindly limbs and tumbles here or there- always getting up and walking back.

    Aysel is not cruel, not cold; but she speaks with a romantic-accent and lilt, with subtle rolls and curves of her consonances. “Because your father is a very pretty golden brown, and I am red. Neither of us are purple darling… don’t be discouraged though. Everyone has their differences and traits- abilities.” she shrugs, brushing the girls forelock as Segolene trots back and places herself beside her mother. To Kreation she minds the question, nodding deeply at the girl and allowing her dark blue eyes to soften as she speaks up.

    “I met Krom briefly, but to my knowledge they have left the area but the region. If they left you behind I am certain it was for safety and for the necessary time to make sure your growth was complete. There is an unfortunate plague outside of this place. Tephra is safe, as is the Island not far from us, so you’ve no worry about contracting anything here.” she is poignant but not harsh, more calm and steady: watching the girl with interest in her but no evident malice or anything… if anything, she seems maternal to her.

    “My arrival to Tephra has been more recent, I stayed once upon a time in the Amazon territory during the reigns of Asylum and Prague some years ago, perhaps centuries. Sadly I never got the chance to really meet your family outside of a brief encounter. I am certain like everyone they have their charms and their inconveniences.” curt and with mind the to filly at her side, Aysel glances back to nip playfully at her, stopping her biting her mother’s tail.

    It occurs to her she is unknown to the child, a name never spoke and with some quickness she seeks to remedy this. “My daughter has named herself first, it seems I am slipping on my manners. My name is Aysel, and you are delightfully well spoken Kreation.”

    Aysel


    @[Kreation]
    #6

    Moments pass and I watch the filly take interest in my name and color.  I smile gently when she says I am the color of a flower, her eyes roving to the greenery mixed with cloves around us.  I watch with curiosity as the young foal puts all of it together and the cheerfulness in her voice.  My own is more monotone and not nearly as expressive as Segolene.  Question form and I look to the mare to wonder what answer she has in store for the children.  My own, began to rise from a deeper core or myself and when the reddish mare has finished, I offer my own opinion, "Yes that is true.  If we were all purple than what would make us unique." My glassy eyes turn to the filly, "Each of us are special in our own way... Me, I can twist the iron of this world to form all kinds of things.  Even the iron in my body, and that is why I have metal parts.  The iron of my body has concentrated there."   

    As I speak my body draws closer to the filly, my head lowering to meet hers and a whisper leaves my lips, "You want to see something neat..?" The question needs no answer as I am already threading the fibers of earth to pull from the ground.  A thin vein of iron hovers just to the side of me -my amethyst eyes focus on it with intent.  Slowly the metal forms and sculpts into the very flowers that surround them.  It shimmers with a delicate gleam and on the backside, a bracket forms. Once complete it hovers to the girls fluffy locks and fastens safely to her mane.  "There," I say with satisfied completion, "Now you are even MORE unique than you were before."   My muzzle moves to nudge the filly kindly before my attention diverts once again.

    The sienna and snowflake mare speaks of my family and their possible intent.  I simply nod with understanding of the dangers that were present outside of this realm.  Remaining a quiet listener, I flutter the feathered wing at my left, while the metallic one on my right shifts with a squeak.  Noisy, useless thing it was. 

    I try to think of the world outside of what I see.  Tephra, Islands, Amazons, I know much and little about this place all at the same time.  Labels to be put to memory for another day I suppose.  And then suddenly the mare is not a stranger anymore as she gives her own label.  "Aysel and Segolene.  Fine names," I give a smile once more before I feel as though I have taken up enough of their day.  "Thank you for the information.  I suppose I can continue my search alone if you are unaware of their current location... I will see you around yes?"  I wait for a parting farewell before I should continue on my merry way...  

    Kreation
    Shoot me down; But I won't fall


    @[Aysel] Sego is under no obligation to keep the gift or speak of it past this thread Smile
    #7

    she's no saint but she'll take you to your knees
    try her boy but she'll still do what she please

    Children possess a sense of wonder that comes from lack of understanding and an unadulterated view of the world: such is why she pouts at the notion of not being purple, and even with the comments about uniqueness? Segolene is perhaps a small bit jealous she does not have something; but only so much that when soothed by both Aysel and Creation, she blinks and studies her new friend: the small iron creature whose beautiful metallic body glows and shines in a way that makes the sunlight deepen or brighten each shade and suggestion of color.

    Aysel is, fascinated, but Segolene more so and she watches the ability of the child handled so easily and so well that for the smallest moment in her life so far: she feels a reverence and awe so deep that it makes the whole of her mind fixate. Iron is a dull thing when it it dirt covered and tarnished; but this is shaped and molded: changed in a way that there is shine and brilliance.

    Segolene is entirely overwhelmed by this: by the whisper and the forming of shapes- by the metallic magics possessed by the girl: and she is endlessly fascinated with ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ and all manner of emotions spreading across her youthful face. It is heavy in her hair but she minds it, enjoys it- and the assurance from Kreation makes Segolene practically leap into the iron-filly.

    “Wowowowowowowowow.” one long stream of sound. “I love it! That’s so cool! Oh man- you can do all kinds of stuff. Neat. Thank you!” she’s a burst of joy, of emotion and of play: a child of endless excitement, and even when the shifting wings make a sound it enthralls her.

    Aysel cannot help but laugh at the way Segolene trots about: how she walks in a way that makes the gift all the more shine and show. It warms her in a way, but, the old Jaguar is a tired creature: one whose enjoyment of the metal-child is endless; but admittedly she almost wishes she could sleep.

    Take them both down for nap time, that she could get them both to stay just a little longer: after all, the plague is rampant.

    Kreation will not have it though, and she is polite, Aysel can only give a mournful sigh before speaking up and nodding. “I am aware only that at present there is Ischia and the Island Resort,” she pauses- considering her words and mulling over the paranoia and fear of the plague. “Both westward and cross the sea a way. I believe Kromium had gone first to Ischia; but it is possible they have reached the other island.” she glances back to her own child, to Segolene who rests and wanders.

    “Segolene, come say goodbye to Kreation. I need you to stay with Jude and Magnus while I leave: I will return; but you cannot go beyond the border.” she is adamant, stiff and harsh enough that the child looks to her friend: she was leaving.

    Quick to saunter back she sniffs, bops her small nose against Kreation- and flattens her ears with a quiet sorrow. “Good bye, okay- I hope you come back.” tender, she leaves.

    Aysel is watching: blinking slowly, and she hardens herself. “I will escort to both Islands. I have heard tale of some awful lizard creature creeping around… as well as squid and other beasts. Besides, while I am almost certain you could easily defend yourself- this is still not a journey for someone so young, alone.”

    And like that the old Jaguar stretches, yawns and shifts her weight: walking and gesturing to Kreation.

    Aysel


    @[Kreation]




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