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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


    Sing a song that doesn’t sin || Colby Pony ||
    #1

    Darling leave the light on for me
    I'll be there before you close the door

    If anyone had asked his opinion on the matter, Vadar would’ve said he was cursed since birth. Now, just what kind of curse he couldn’t be sure, but as the days wore on and the painful memory of Roseen and her son splitting away from him grew fainter and less biting, Vadar was inclined to believe that his curse was the damning kind of loneliness reserved for the creatures unworthy of company. It made sense after all. He was bastard-born and displayed the markings of his dark heritage right there across his face, like a bold, white flag of warning for anyone and everyone to see.

    Not to mention that his gift (one he was determined to use for good) was tinted red like pale blood, the same color of his eyes which seemed to unsettle any creature that took to staring at them for too long a period and so, trudging on sturdy, still-furry black legs, the nomadic stallion navigated the meadow tucked into the base of the mountain with a twinge of apprehension and a firm-set mouth.

    It was better, he reasoned, to just accept the fact of his uselessness and continue on as he always had, meandering without purpose through the common lands and sleeping, eating, probably dying alone as it seemed fated to be. Better than getting his hopes raised by a chance encounter only to have them embarrassingly thrown right back into his own clown-marked face. Easier to just keep your distance, mind your own business, he mused thoughtfully, pausing along the invisible edge of the territory to lower his head for a bite or two of fresh spring grass.

    Because of this, and because the carefully grown waves of his pewter forelock drifted over his eyes and forehead, obscuring his view, the vagabond male hadn’t seen that this place wasn’t entirely abandoned as it should be, given the current circumstances. Still, when the shuffle of muffled hooves in the distance catches his wandering ears Vadar refuses to look up and investigate who it might be. It would only be a useless endeavor. Whoever they were, they weren’t here for him and he could almost certainly bet they wouldn’t take time out of their day to approach.

    It just seemed natural to assume he’d be left perfectly alone.



    @[Colby]
    Reply
    #2
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    Spring was a welcome change, the warmth of the sun having chased away the last of the snow, and grass and leaves were growing anew. Plague-ridden and sick, Beqanna was still moving forward. Time stopped for nothing, and the seasons paid little attention to the struggles of the living creatures and their daily trials and tribulations. They could be wiped clean off the map and they days would still tick on.

    They are scared. She can hear it in the minds of those she walked past, many of who are already infected. The healers are growing weary, unable to keep up with the massive rise in demand for their talent. Everyone is wondering to what extent this plague spread, and how long it is going to last.

    She ignores their thoughts.

    The steel-gray filly walks, an imaginary purpose propelling her stride. This spring completed her first year, but even at such a young age, she had long since lost her baby appearance. The angles of her face were sharper, her body already having developed svelte curves, accentuated by the silvery dapples that scattered her body in star-struck patterns. Somehow she had completely skipped the gangly stage, and while not full grown, she looked more like a petite, lithe adult.

    The area that she travels through is mostly empty, but her cobalt-blue eyes settle on a dark stallion not far away. Even though he does not look at her, she knows he knows he is there. He expects her to keep walking, and in typical Starsin fashion, she does the opposite.

    ”Hello,” Her voice is too sweet, thick like honey, and she regards him carefully as she walks closer. There is a smile that lifts the corners of her lips, her night-sky eyes finding his red own. ”Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?” It is said with a tilt of her head, concern lingering in the lyrics of her voice, pretending to not notice how contradictory her statement sounded. ”I’m Starsin.”



    @[Vadar]
    Reply
    #3

    Darling leave the light on for me
    I'll be there before you close the door

    Fix your face, he remembers being told once as a boy and then, as now, he finds the idea preposterous. When he catches the sound of her introduction (a voice that was light, very becoming) he raises a typically unenthusiastic head the same as he’s done countless times before and in that moment, Vadar is outside of himself. He knows good and well what he looks like: an expression of wild amusement (sinister almost) framed in black and accentuated with a most unusual set of eyes, all of which gave the overall appearance that he was someone not to be bothered.

    Annoyingly, this often drew the interest of horses who assumed he was aligned with some malicious intent or another which, laughingly, couldn’t be farther from the truth. “I’m more afraid of being alive.” He offers as an ironic reply, secretly pleased that the two of them are nearly equal in height. What looks to him like a dainty, tall pony is really just a mature filly. Apparently both aren’t exactly what they seem. “Starsin … I’m Vadar.”

    Why was he doing this? He can feel it sink in again - that gnawing desire to connect with someone, anyone really - but he shakes it loose with some effort on his part and takes to glancing down at her coat. It seemed unlike any gray he’d ever seen and yet, at the same time, it was exactly like every other dappled animal he’d come across. Perhaps it was due to the fact that her markings were clustered in odd arrangements and, if he’d been one who was used to flying or navigating in the dark it might’ve struck him immediately, but it isn’t until he scans across the sloping curve of her shoulder that the connection sinks in.

    “The ladle!” He blurts out, remembering it as the most recognizable constellation from boyhood. Wound, his dam, was fond of stargazing but he’d never caught on himself. Still, some things stick and that blocky, uneven square with the upcurved tail clearly had been stored away for a moment like this. “Interesting.” He remarks, this time producing a genuine white-lipped smile. “The gods won’t be too happy that you stole their handiwork for yourself.”



    @[Starsin]
    Reply
    #4
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    Starsin, despite not being exactly sugar and spice and everything nice, was actually decidedly nonjudgmental of outward appearances. Maybe she would be, if she couldn’t peel back the curtains of their mind and read their every thought. She didn’t need to see how pretty or how handsome they were — although being aesthetically pleasing was always a positive. She wanted to see how fucked up they were on the inside. She wanted to read every wretched thought so she knew exactly which angle to play.

    She wasn’t cruel. She was just a teenage girl with not enough going on in her own life.

    Vadar is self-conscious of his facial markings, and she regards him with veiled scrutiny. He is not like her perfect golden boy, but he doesn’t have a reason to be so worried about his white marking and pale red eyes. Of course she’s not going to tell him that. Not yet at least. ”You don’t want to be alive? But...why?” She is genuinely curious. At only a year old, she had already had her fair share of hardships. Being born to a harlot, uncaring mother, she learned first-hand that love was not unconditional. It was not a birthright. But it was something she had accepted, and even if she didn’t know how to take kindness when it was shown to her — such as from Ophanim — she still didn’t have any qualms with being alive.

    But he is drawn to her constellations, and she watches him patiently as he tries to piece it together. A slow simper lifts the corner of her lips, tossing her inky forelock from her cobalt blue eyes as she retorts teasingly, ”They gave them to me. They said the stars needed to be closer, and who better to display them than me?” There is a tilt of her head, as though daring him to argue.

    She sidles alongside of him, reaching out then to just barely touch her muzzle against his shoulder. ”You seem sad.” Her voice is so soft she almost fools herself into being actually concerned; and a part of her is. She is trying to learn how they work, how everyone ticks, so that maybe someday, she doesn’t have to fake it anymore.



    @[Vadar]
    Reply
    #5

    Darling leave the light on for me
    I'll be there before you close the door

    “Because the life I live is one that’s been squandered.” He tells her firstly, much more fascinated by the look she’s giving him and the feeling of her own body so close in proximity to his own. Vadar refuses to think about how long it’s been since he’s had this kind of contact, pushing away that cringeworthy truth in favor of admiring her bold nature. If the Gods had truly given her their symbols, they certainly couldn’t have a picked a better emissary. “Being dead leaves me with no obligations, but being alive fills me with regrets.”

    He says nothing on the matter of his sadness when her nose ghosts across the hard, flat plane of his black shoulder. Contemplating her innate powers and what they might be, his eyes seem to glow in response to her flippant affection, both red orbs curving along with his head to take in the full effect of her. He smiles gently, reaches out to brush the disarray of her forelock like an elder brother might, and then shifts away from her tepid contact. There’s no use in it, he reasons to himself. He’d rather not dream of her, and reaching for the stars had always proved to be a fickle endeavor for him anyways.

    “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re too astute for your own good?” The stallion smirks, an unusual look for him but one she’s managed to uncover all the same. If that’s why she approached him unprovoked, because she’d accurately guessed at his internal despondency, then it made her too correct and much too observant for his liking. Vadar sighs and glances away, hating that his forced hermitage seemed to leave him both paranoid and yet full of cravings. “You unsettle me.” He admits with another backwards glance, “I think you should leave.”



    @[Starsin] Not an ending necessarily, just his flustered reaction to her attention Smile
    Reply
    #6
    do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    ”There’s always time for life to turn around, though,” She says with a deliberate smile, her dark-blue eyes searching his. She wonders what it is like, to feel the full range of emotion that he does. She is not entirely calloused, but she still found it hard to relate to most. With nothing to lose, it was difficult to fear for anything, and she couldn’t miss something she had never had. She only knew the static gray that she lived in; no matter how hard she searched for color, she rarely found it, and even when she did, she destroyed it before it could disappoint her.

    ”You could wake up one day and everything could change,” Her voice has lowered to a wondrous murmur, her silken lips lightly grasping a few strands of his mane before pulling away with a demure smile. He is so hesitant to accept her, and even though she likes to pretend she can’t imagine why, his intuition is accurate. She is not purposely manipulative or misleading, but she is fickle and uncertain. She was prone to disappearing, of abandoning anyone that perhaps showed an ounce of genuine care towards her. It was cliche, but she tried to leave before she could be left.

    His words bring a bubble of silvery laughter, shaking her dark forelock from her eyes and saying casually,”Not in those exact words, no.” Annoying, irritating, obnoxious…those she had been told. Most didn’t like having their minds read. They especially didn’t like being messed with by the fact that she never really outright told anyone; she just dropped small enough hints to make them wonder if they were losing their mind.

    His attitude shifts suddenly, and his thoughts once again revert to not being sure about her presence and her intentions. A soft frown creases her face, and instead of retreating she steps closer, ”I wasn’t trying to upset you. I’m sorry.” The apology is gentle, and mostly sincere; she hadn’t actually tried to unsettle him, yet. So far, Vadar was not pushing her in the way some did — she wasn’t trying to irritate or pull his strings. In another step she is alongside of him again, whispering her nose across his neck as she adds softly, ”What if I don’t want to go?” Her shapely head tips askew, her night-sky eyes searching his imploringly, wondering if he would actually make her leave.



    @[Vadar]
    Reply
    #7

    Darling leave the light on for me
    I'll be there before you close the door

    The hope she feeds him like morsels can’t possibly sustain or counter the truth. Wouldn’t he enjoy believing her, though? He can almost imagine it: waking up somewhere the sun never left, only a touch away from someone or something he actually cared about. Is that what keeps her alive? Does she wake every morning to a new life, fall asleep every evening to the promise of a better tomorrow? He wonders, eyeing her all the while as Starsin toys and taunts, touches and makes him want. Vadar only breathes again when he puts distance between them, finding he had little willpower to do it a second time.

    That high, nearly childish laugh makes him hate himself all the more. Here was a creature clearly in control of her actions and most situations, determined to push her silver-maned companion in a direction he was highly unfamiliar with. Some things came easily to him but not these ... these casual encounters. The little gray mare with a cape of stars was so familiar in her nature, he expects that she won’t be dismissed. Not by anyone.

    So he accepts her apology instantly, but stays calm and quiet. The satin sheen of his black skin doesn’t twitch or shudder away from Starsin’s waves of breath. Vadar listens to her question, then tilts his black cheek to one side; eyeing her with that red, round eye encased in a diamond. “It’s your time. Waste it how you like.” He smiles. Always smiling, even if it wasn’t how he felt. “What are you trying to do, anyways?” He wonders without moving, turning his face forwards. Only then he decides he won’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. He’d rather take a guess instead.

    “Was your day getting boring?” The black stallion asks, unexpectedly sighing.



    @[Starsin]
    Reply
    #8
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    ”You’re not a waste of time,” she says in her quietly dulcet voice, that same simper unfurling across her sterling lips, sidling her delicately built frame directly alongside his. He felt warm, and she was like a cat drawn to a beam of sunshine, lazing against him with a similar feline nonchalance. His thoughts ripple through her mind, but she mostly ignores them, for now. She has listened enough to know most of what she needed to know; he didn’t think highly of himself, which is something she still didn’t understand. She liked him – so far. She liked that he seemed genuine, something that she rarely was. He didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t, while she, on the other hand, pretended to be anything except who she was.

    With a strand of his mane running between her teeth she listens to him, letting him question her motives without rushing to answer. She contemplates it long enough that he answers for her, but she still doesn’t confirm or deny what he says, letting her lips brush against the muscles of his shoulder, her laughter fanning across his skin. ”I’m never bored,” which was partially true; there were too many ways to entertain herself, and the feeling of boredom was often fleeting. ”And I’m not trying to do anything malicious.”

    She side steps away from him then, her side feeling cold without his warmth against it, and she knows he will feel it too. Her dark-blue eyes watch him again from behind a nearly black forelock, adding meaningfully,  ”I was just trying to be your friend.”



    @[Vadar]
    Reply
    #9
    @[Vadar] has been infected by the plague (rolled a 5).
    He will show symptoms (rolled a 3).
    He will not express a trait (rolled a 5).

    @[Starsin] has been infected by the plague (rolled a 1).
    She is a carrier (rolled a 1).
    She will not express a trait (rolled a 5).
    Reply




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