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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


    bottom of the deep blue sea; ivar/any residents
    #1
    bottom of the deep blue sea
    Isobell sits upon a throne of seaglass and bleached shells. Ivar and his Ischia had been good to her. The waters are far warmer here than in Nerine and the sandy was smooth without broken pebbles. It was a luxurious experience to walk the water's edge, to dive deep into the clear ocean, to sunbath under a endless blue sky.

    In her time as his wife, Ivar has grown tired of the ruling, bickering, and frolicking with his consorts. The kelpie mare acknowledges it all with a tight smile...tolerant of his vices. He is a good man and loving husband...and after all, a kelpie.

    The egg is safe (a present from Ivar) in a nest of sand and downy flower blooms, to be warmed in the sun as she swam, her scales itch with the collection of dust. Isobell thinks to near the water, thinks of the child in her belly, adn of her happiness. It is not soon after that Ivar gifts her the tropical isle> She elated, the piece of her that was once queen of Nerine, feeling fulfilled. "Ivar, perhaps we should have a gathering, or celebration, if you will. I hate the idea of an inauguration as that is too formal but a party to get to know any residents or those interested in joining us." The words flicker from her tongue as she speaks with sharp silver eyes. "Perhaps a hunting party and feast with other lands interested in an alliance." The mare thinks of her dragon kin and the benefit of a union. The idea had been offered from Castile's chosen mare, Sochi and Iso had been delighted at the notion. Though she lacked the proper teeth for merciless kills, she would be willing to partake if her husband agreed with the idea.



    @Ivar
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    #2
    Ruling had grated on Ivar and while he is content to let Isobell theorize about the reasoning behind his descension, the truth is that the kelpie prefers a smaller territory than than of Ischia. The western island where he’d lived for years with Kylin had been a good size, but the big island and all the smaller ones was far too large of a world. He wants something smaller, and he has found it in the northeastern islet. The same had been true of Loess, for while his instincts quieted on dry land, they were never at ease with the vast hilly kingdom.

    Gifting his favorite wife with a throne had been an easy choice. Less responsibility has translated into far more free time, and Ivar has certainly taken advantage of it. He knows better than to remind Isobell of what exactly it is that he has been up to, but then she proposes the idea of a gathering of Ischia. Ivar grows still in the water and then turns – carefully lazy – to face her.

    She wants to get to know the residents of Ischia?

    There are not many of them; Ivar has made sure of this after the brotherhood’s departure. The residents of the tropical island are his women; he already knows them all. Some of his less impressive children – those that are not kelpies – he has not bothered to seek out, but he has seen them grazing alongside their mothers from time to time. If they drew to close to the shore he’d pull them under to feast on as easily as he might a stranger – there is no advantage to weak children.

    The idea of Isobell meeting Carwyn or Wishbone is amusing, but not in a way that he suspects Isobell might enjoy. She then mentions another sort of party – a hunting party – and Ivar frowns. It sounds like an exceptionally terrible idea to the kelpie. His kind hunt alone, and the idea of welcoming others to this place he has worked so hard to secure does not sit will with the piebald creature. Still, Isobell seems pleased with her idea, and Ivar had long ago acknowledged that his life is easier when Isobell is content.


    “If that is what you want,” he says against the smooth scales below her ear. Perhaps he’ll take a woman to the far side of his island during this celebration and occupy himself in more interesting ways. “Then that is what you should do.”

    @[Isobell]
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    #3

    Evia has not yet chosen to live here—does not quite understand what would make someone pledge themselves to a home regardless—but it is a nice base to rest between swims if she tires of sleeping beneath the waves. Still, her curiosity grows the longer that she stays here, and she finds that she wanders more from the beach and the tide, pulling herself from the water with reluctance. The further that she walks, the more the water dries, she feels herself growing increasingly uncomfortable. There is almost a streak of irritation, but it quiets, leaves her on edge and wary, her scales itching with the dryness.

    When she finds the pair of them, she walks slowly, the silky tangles of her silvery mane falling in waves down her slender neck, the blossoms within it pale pink and white. “Hello,” her voice is soft, hiding the discomfort beneath it, the desperate desire to leave and be in the quiet of the sea. But her curiosity to expand her own knowledge base is greater than even that desire and so she doesn’t listen to it, not yet.

    Her eyes study Ivar for a moment before she turns her attention to the mare.

    There is nothing but curiosity on her face then as she angles her head, teal ears perking forward amongst the ropes of her mane and forelock. “My name is Evia,” she offers softly, the smile fleeting as it crosses across her delicate features. She thinks perhaps that there is more that she should say, but she doesn’t know what that would be and so she falls quiet, watching the pair of them together as her tail flicks lightly behind her, the edges of it covered in sand that it leaves in splatters across the curve of her hip.

    Evia
    we are slaves to the sirens of the salty sea


    I wasn't sure if you wanted residents to post or not but I can delete if you want! <3
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