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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


    Paint the sky red: Castile, Any!
    #1

    winter wonderland

     His final visit had been a success at the mountain, after a few tries, the faeries finally responded and granted him a quest to fulfil. The stallion has thought through the destructive nature of the magic he had requested, though the thought of it happening to him never really crossed his mind, never really thinking through what could happen if he became self-absorbed in the magic it creates.
     
    The stallion stares up at the sky as he travels, the hint of a storm in the air, a smile painted across his pale face as the thought of flight crosses his mind, the freedom involved with travelling through the air, to anywhere he wanted to create a hopeful stride as he walks. 
    Ruinam didn't originally think he would be travelling to Loess so soon, especially with reasoning other than a diplomatic visit. But the stallion travels for good reason, wanting to visit the very thing he wanted to become and find out what it felt like to destroy what you want to protect.
    The stallion arrives at the border with, exhaling the air from his lungs with a deep huff, the scent of salty springs and decaying autumnal foliage entering his lungs as he halts.
    The ivory-white stallion sends a call out to Castile, patiently waiting at the border of his kingdom, his mind casting back to Sylva and all the trouble he had gotten himself into, but now he would be able to solve it all piece by piece.
     
     
     
     

    Ruinam
      Here is a crappy short starter @[Castile]
    ruinam-500px
    #2
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    The world is still recovering, still licking the scabbed wounds of war and chaos. Castile, a patient hunter, has allotted this period to recuperate, but he already knows it will not last forever. There’s no need to dive into madness again, not when he has nothing but time on his hands. Immortality, he discovered, sinks into his every pore and every bone. At fourteen, there should be some signs of aging, some telltale that life will eventually come to an end, but there remains nothing hindering him. His expression is still bright, handsome, his body not at all creaks or groans during exertion.

    Time, he muses, is on his side.

    Perhaps, that is why he doesn’t immediately find Ruinam at the border. He doesn’t rush from his roost in the mountains to address the newcomer in the first seconds of his arrival. Instead, there is a lackadaisical pace to his walk when he finally confronts the stranger with piercing eyes.

    A breath is drawn in. He calculates it, weeds out its vague familiarity, before inclining his head with mild uncertainty and mistrust. ”You lived in Sylva before I took it back from Mary and Sinner,” yes, now he remembers the stallion’s musty scent mingled with the coniferous trees. It was becoming faint – perhaps he moved to a different territory in anticipation – but still desperately hung to the damp leaf beds and tree bark. Now, however, there is a taste of saltwater and sand on his skin. Knowledgeable of both tropical islands, he pinpoints it with a nonchalant shrug. ”What is someone from the Island Resort doing in Loess?” Although nothing of him is draconic – his wings are receded, his scales nonexistent – his voice rumbles, demanding of attention. ”It appears the purple family of incest has since left the spit of land,” memories flash across his mind, bristling him, but Castile catches himself and lifts a single brow. ”What’s your name, former Sylvan?”

    As they talk, he suppresses his grin at knowing that Mary was once on the Island, too, but now plays a role in Castile’s game.

    castile



    @[Ruinam]
    #3

    winter wonderland

    The deep scent of wet earth follows him as he halts at the border, the faint call of an oncoming storm rustling just a land or two behind him, aching to devour the land in rain and thunder.
    As the ivory-white stallion takes a deep breath, the scent of electricity in the air diminishes, filled with a bold scent of brimstone and ash. Ruinam's eyes flash open as the unfortunately familiar scent fills his lungs, the shape of fear forming in front of him, eyes piercing his very existence.
    "Castile," he affirms, his stance relaxed for now "I did indeed. I was loyal to Sinner" the words that escape his jaws are almost bitter, the thought of serving the hound slowly fading, slowly finding confidence in independence.

    Castile is quick to pick up the stallion's familiarity with the resort, his voice perpetuating Ruinam's fear, his confidence brittle as he stands in front of the draconic king.
    "I lead the Resort, and I have come to ask you for advice," he says with reluctance, the quest he has been given driving him to break all the uncertainties he had, seeking to know what destruction feels like.
    "I am Ruinam," he says with a little more confidence this time, his name bringing him back to the drive he had previously, his quest to revive the resort and to bring peace to the lonely island slowly back on track.
    "As I have stated, I seek your guidance," he says, his expression hopeful.

    Even though the stallion had once despised the dragon king for taking over the very thing he loved the most, he slowly learned to move on and past the issue. Thankfully before the taking of Sylva the stallion had moved to take the resort as part of Sinner's plan, an expedition he was a small part of, though through this form, the stallion slowly managed to break away from Sinner and form his own independance, especially when Mary had joined him on the island.


    Ruinam
      @[Castile]
    ruinam-500px
    #4
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Ruinam is unsettled. There are peaks and valleys to his comfort in Castile’s company. A flashing stare accompanies every muscle twitch and jump in the stallion’s heartbeat, Castile’s curiosity and amusement masked by a stern expression.

    It would have been a warmer greeting were they allies, or even individual friends outside of political ties. Alas, there is no love existing between them; the draconic king perceives the porcelain male as a threat, an enemy. Confirming this with a suddenly proud stance, Ruinam wins a narrowed stare. ”Was,” he echoes, clutching the word immediately after it tumbles past his lips, ”You’re no longer loyal to the mutt?” Although Sinner possesses no land and no title, his influence still has the capability to extend across Beqanna. A contemplative hum vibrates through the Loessian King. Perhaps, with the crown of twigs stripped, Sinner has lost everything, including his friends. With a blink and nonchalant roll of his shoulders, Castile tucks the information into the dark vault of his thoughts.

    That can either work against him, or it may work in his favor.

    Ruinam introduces himself, but it’s acknowledged through a silent and curt nod. He is the new leader of the Island Resort, he supplements, and says nothing of the lavender family that once littered its tropical shoreline. With them gone – and likely Wallace, too – and Mary coming to Loess, who remains on the spit of land? A lungful of air comes and goes, but nothing notable can be deciphered. It’s a quiet place, he decides.

    A relaxed posture ripples across Castile as he cocks his hip and considers the request disdainfully. He allows the foreigner to finish reiterating himself before finally responding, his voice gruff. ”Well, there’s a problem there,” he begins and pauses to thoughtfully clench his jaws, ”because I typically only share advice with friends. And you, boy, don’t quite fit that bill.” But Castile doesn’t turn away yet or usher out the islander, because even as he begins pulling the rug out from underneath Ruinam, he enables an opportunity for him to ground and balance himself. ”I enjoy chatting, but I need a damn good reason to give a complete stranger advice, especially one that was loyal to my enemy.” The opportunity flirts with the edges of his tongue. His mismatched eyes gleam mischievously underneath his unruly forelock, even as he disinterestedly glances away toward the mountain peaks before returning to Ruinam’s expectance.

    After a long enough pause – enough to build the suspense and suspend it in the air between them – he continues enticingly. ”I suppose we could become friends, and then I can advise you. Perhaps the Island Resort can become a territory of Loess. We, and our extensive list of allies, could provide your island great protection.” Castile settles back and allows a blanket of silence to envelope them. He bides his time and allows the opportunity to marinade and sink in, to flood Ruinam’s mind with possibilities before reiterating, ”Friendship for advice.”


    castile



    @[Ruinam]
    #5

    winter wonderland

    Sinner had been quite important to Ruinam when he had travelled to Beqanna, he had taken Ruinam in and showed him the ropes, giving him both a shelter and a chance to become part of something bigger.
    When Ruinam was tasked with taking over the resort he felt rather unsure, he didn't know if he would be able to cut ties with Sinner, even if it was only for a while, he had almost become dependant on the hound, relying on his advice to find his own.
    After taking over the lonely island Ruinam slowly found his way to independence, finding confidence in protecting the island and its few residents. Once Sylva had fallen and the plan had crumbled, Ruinam learned to fend for himself and become a better leader, forgetting to rely on solely on Sinner.

    "That is correct, my ties with Sylva are long gone and forgotten. My focus now likes on the resort" he nods, his tone expressionless.
    Just as Ruinam begins to feel a faint quiver of hope, his expression becomes dull as Castile speaks again "Why of course, why am I not surprised there" he says dryly, his brow raised as he looks Castile in the eyes, his mind vibrating violently, almost making his body shake as he tries to find his confidence.

    The stallion takes a moment to think about Castile's offer, though his mind and plans remain unchanged "That I cannot do, the resort has plans of its own" he offers warmly, his body resisting the urge to leave "I plan to stick to those plans, and if that breaks the possibility of a friendship then so be it" he says bitingly, his tone changing sharply as he turns away from the draconic man, a confidence in his step that he has never felt before.
    "I hope to meet you again Castile, though on better terms" he says looking over his shoulder.
    Though protection from a kingdom like Loess seemed inviting, the stallion wanted to keep to his idea, to create a safe haven for the resort and to stay out of the trouble Loess had caused so far.

    He says nothing else as he turns away, walking away from the draconic king with haste, eager to return to the resort and further develop his idea.

    Ruinam
    @[Castile]
    ruinam-500px
    #6
    Castile rolls his shoulders in wait, curious as to whether or not Ruinam will take the bait. The hook lies in the water, idle. He can nearly feel Ruinam’s pulse quicken and his mind race. In truth, Castile anticipates rejection, but it’s at least worth a feeble attempt. It would further tip the scales, but the Island is seemingly quiet enough that it doesn’t seem feasible to chase the opportunity.

    ”Very well,” his tone lifts in conclusion, an inkling that it doesn’t faze him greatly. A smug grin accompanies the edge of his voice as he observes the porcelain stallion’s cold retaliation. With a gaze similar to ice, Ruinam decides to take his question – his mission – elsewhere. Languidly, Castile nods and steps sideways in preparation of leaving. He listens, of course, to the curt bid farewell, but his response is of near disregard. A single scoff of laughter escapes him before turning away, first ensuring that Ruinam has done the same before taking to the sky and disappearing among the clouds.



    (Just an official closing post that you don't need to respond to Smile )




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