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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


    [open]  i must go to the seas again
    #1
    for the call of the running tide

    Her iridescent violet wings have long since dried, though sand and salt from the island Kelpie still cling to her outspread feathers. Oceane soars uncomfortably high - perhaps higher than she ever has before, the thin air causing her to gasp for each inward breath but she doesn't care. She should be nothing more than a birdlike speck in the sky as she flies over her Loessian home.

    She doesn't want to face them yet. Not with the odd, unwelcome weight of discomfort that sits like a stone in her gut..

    The pegasi had secured her escape from the small isle north of Ischia theoretically unscathed, but the feeling of danger still lingers in her mind.. The recent obscured memory of it, of the invisible tethers that had bound her to the earth, draws a disagreeable chill down her crest and to the base of her spine despite the fact that she cannot quite place what had happened within the territory of Ischia. Oceane descends just low enough, now that she is out of Loessian skies, to warm her limbs and heat her lungs.

    Finding a small clearing in the dense expanse that is the Forest, the opaline pegasi coasts in a small circle. Lower and lower she goes until she gives a few mighty flaps to slow her descent and then, finally, her hooves fall upon the needle-blanketed forest. Her nostrils flare at the scent of petrichor. The smell is so different from the sea salt of Ischia that it calms her almost instantly.

    Ruffling her wings as she folds them, Oceane settles her feathered limbs comfortably to her sides and turns her gilded eyes to inspect her surroundings. The forest is calm and quiet, and the scent of the trees and their leaves overpowers the smells of any other equine who had recently meandered through their trunks. It's peaceful. And for the first time, Oceane feels no need to explore the dark depths hidden between timber and brush. There is no tug of curiosity or desire in her core to learn what secrets the forest hides.

    Perhaps she will find time on another day to ponder over this loss of intrigue. But for now, she curls up in the very middle of the forest clearing and settles in a nest of pine needles. Her amber eyes turn towards the tree boughs before her and find movement; a blue-and-gold parrot hops to the edge of a larger branch and peers down at her from amidst the leaves. Oceane lifts her head, a semblance of a smile finding the corners of her mouth as she greets the avian.

    "You tried to warn me. Why?" she questions softly and the bird bobs its head, lilting words tumbling from a yellow beak:

    'And yet... you did not listen.'


    any | speech
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #2
    Bean is shedding with each step; bits of brown that fly off and up into the air. Other remnants catch in the craggiest pits of the tree she scratched her rump against. She even had a sparrow snatch a tuft from her back that made Bean turn her head and snort in response at the intrusive little beak poking into her skin. The poor bird had stabbed just a little deep for the brown girl’s liking, and almost met bared teeth in return. 


    She couldn’t harm a defenseless little sparrow though and she gave herself a little shake that tore the brown tuft loose and sent the bird up into the air with it’s prize. Bean assumed it was for a nest, so she was glad she could of some help. It made her smile to know that she might have provided a bit of softness for some fortunate eggs. But in thinking of birds, she thoughts of wings and thus, of Blue. 


    Did he ever fly with those things? She’d have to ask when she went back to the island later. Right now, she rubbed up against another tree to relieve another itch as she started to shed out to surprise surprise - more brown underneath. Bean blended in with the tree trunks and she was just fine with that. Maybe it meant she had tree-sprite far back in her blood. How cool would that be? To be descended from a tree-sprite and that could account for such nutty bland coloring. 


    It could be argued that she was only nutty in mind and not color. The latter might be more like coffee beans, fresh ground dirt, or unsweetened tea. Bean tried not to describe herself too much, she had no reason to. Brown from head to hoof worked well enough. In fact, she thought she looked rather fetching against the green backdrop big the forest. She smiled and finished her scratching before sauntering down an unfamiliar path.


    Bean starts to sing but it’s gibberish to the untrained ear, and maybe even to hers. The noise she makes is not loud enough to roust anything from the bracken around her. A squirrel crosses her path but that’s it. They eye one another for a moment until she bobs head to the small animal and it scurries away, and Bean continues on. However the path ends in a clearing that she soon discovers is already occupied by a colorful bird perched on a branch and a much more colorful horse. 


    Oh sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
    She hadn’t of course and the singing should have given her away long before she set foot into the clearing. Yet the little brown horse lingers, reluctant to go just then.

    @[Oceane]
    #3
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    Is it enough?

    Oftentimes that is the question these days. Is what he does for others, to others, enough to please a fairy? She must know that he can only do so much against the disbalance in the world. Heck, he can’t even be sure if his own personal balance will ever truly fall to the ‘good’ side - pending of course, what someone defines as good or bad. His own definitions aren’t really things he can trust anymore - was it a good thing to try to scare a yearling, to prevent her from worse mistakes?

    Was it a good thing to help someone survive on Icicle Isle at all - perhaps fate had decided they should die there?

    Perhaps he’s just taking all of this to the next level; certainly she could not have meant for him to help everybody. She’d said she wanted to make sure that any changes weren’t solely for himself.

    Did she mean, perhaps, herself instead of the world? Or was that one and the same thing?

    Stop overthinking it. It was one thing to tell himself that, another thing to stop doing it. And yet, perhaps his overthinking is what set him wandering; set him wandering to ultimately find someone else, meet someone new, and perhaps try to help them in some way.

    Or not, if the situation didn’t call for it. Then, he usually resorted to his stupid jokes and simply hoping that perhaps someone could learn from his prodding - something about themselves, something about him, something about the chaotic way the world worked.

    The forest was an easy place to pick old and dried fruits and nuts for Beryl. And an even easier place to be wandering in, if he needed to keep his mind off anything.

    It was a surprise to find the colourful maiden from Loess in the forest - most winged horses didn’t go so deep into the woods, not wanting to get stuck beneath a canopy. But she had - and perhaps, he thought as he focused on her, on purpose.

    He makes his way over, but before he can tell her that she looks like shit, she says something. You tried to warn me. Now, Leilan hadn’t exactly warned her of anything except that Loess was so full of souls that it could choke a horse, and that cacti were prickly.

    At the same time, another mare appears, though younger and of different build. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. That, to Leilan, is very strange.

    So, when he steps up to the pair, he addresses the latter first with a rhetoric question. ”Why apologize for something you didn’t do?” he asks her, head tilted as he walks up to Oceane, asking her a question next. ”I told you about the cacti, so please tell me that’s not what this is about.” Of course it isn’t, but a little bit of a joke to take her mind off of it never hurt anyone. Assessing her position on the ground, he adds: ”For the record, I’m not sure pine needles are that much better.”

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Oceane] as requested (:
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #4
    for the call of the running tide

    By the time Oceane's gaze returns to the parrot's roost, having shifted away for a few moments to the countenances of an unfamiliar brown mare and a familiar Leilan, the two-toned avian has departed. Whether into the dense forest or into the blue sky beyond the pegasi is uncertain, though she thinks with some amount of confidence that she will cross paths with the helpful creature again in the future.

    Though the sound of the woman's song had ceased when she'd happened upon the edge of the clearing, the recent memory of it still rings in Oceane's head; the tune had been foreign to her (unsurprising considering her own foreignness) but melodic enough to be used to calm a child who required doting. She wonders, as Leilan chides the nameless mare, if the song is one used often during bedtime for Beqanna's children.

    "You haven't interrupted," she tells the woman kindly as her gilded eyes shift to Leilan with something akin to scolding, though it's softened by the amusement in her gaze. "However minor your advice, Leilan, I did heed it." She laughs quietly, allowing his jests to lift her spirits, albeit slightly, before shifting her weight upon the pine needles and rocking her opaline body until she is standing once more.

    She purposely refrains from mentioning her conversation with the blue-and-gold parrot, quite uncertain whether or not the feathered creature had actually spoken to her or if she had imagined the whole ordeal. Best not to allow others to question her sanity.

    Oceane shakes the needles from her wings, rustling them against her sides nonchalantly as her melted amber gaze returns to the plain - yet pretty - brown mare. "I quite enjoyed your song," she uses the topic to thrust Ivar and Ischia to the back of her mind, "is it a children's lullaby?"

    Remembering, a bit later than what would normally be considered polite that she has neglected to introduce herself to the unfamiliar woman, the iridescent pegasi turns a striped neck in her direction and offers a small, yet apologetic, smile. "I am Oceane, and this is my acquaintance, Leilan. I am from Loess and though he will tell you he's not, you could most likely find Leilan in the foothills, as well." She smiles again, pleasantly and warm, as she looks between the two equine who have found her in the forest's smallest clearing. A quiet breeze graces them with its presence, pushing the lingering scent of sea salt from Oceane's wings into her flared nostrils and causing a sudden, but brief, frown across her purple lips.


    @[bean] & @[Leilan] | speech
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #5
    Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare.

    It doesn’t work; this inner mantra to not stare. She can’t help herself. The other was so beautiful! She made Bean look like a handful of dirt, although even that might - at times - be more appealing than the ordinary brown mare. So she stares, as the blue and purple chase themselves in opalescent brilliance across the mare’s skin.


    Oh. They’re not alone. Not for long, at least as a stallion joins them and he seems to be a grumpy-gus. Bean though, just smiles at him and is as pleasant as a slice of freshly served pie. She just looks ok as he moseys right on up to the mare and it becomes apparent that they know one another. Yep, now she is more than certain that she has indeed interrupted something.


    Her brain could stumble over lover’s trysts and friendships and the like, but it doesn’t. Their business is their business and she’s just a bystander considering her options, like meandering onward and leaving them to it. Except she’s included and sticks out like a burr in their midst. Oh dear! 


    So Bean finally answers him, “Clearly something was interrupted, be it a nap or a daydream or whatever. Mama did teach me to be polite, how about yours?” It was a tiny jab at his bluntness, so easily mistaken for rudeness but the brown mare just smiles on, kind of like Dory - a fish out of water.


    “Thank you,” she tells the pretty mare as her brown eyes shift between them to finally settle on some tree in the middle. Poor tree, like it really wants to be the center of her attention, but she figured it was a nice neutral point to focus on. Her mind starts to wander until she feels the weight of the mare’s gaze on her and Bean looks at her. “Hmm? Oh... probably, I’m not quite sure.” she mumbled, trying to think of the song’s origins. 


    She is thinking long and hard about the song and doesn’t notice the social ineptness that each of them displays. Was there a proper amount of time to make introductions? If so, Bean was probably taught it but not really paying attention to the lesson - had her head in the clouds most likely. “Nice to meet you,” she offers, because it seems the right thing to do. “I’m Bean, of… umm… everywhere.” she finishes lamely but happily, not noticing the frown that fell across those purple lips.

    @[Oceane] @[Leilan] Sorry it took so long to reply!
    #6
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    The topic of interrupting or not might stay a point of discussion between the scaled roan and the very brown bay; humming from a distance is something he doesn’t consider interrupting - only the fact that she started talking to Oceane, perhaps. There is, in his eyes, a number of ways in which someone could be overdoing it with the politeness; nevertheless, when the brown mare asks him about his mother teaching him manners, he simply grins at her with suddenly emerald-coloured eyes: “You know, she asked me the same thing once.” Of course, she had been watching her through heat-vision and not recognized him, and he had easily walked back into Nerine as if he owned it - although he had a sort of birthright to live there, perhaps that had not been his smartest move.

    Who wants to be smart and polite all the time anyway?

    The conversation continues between the two mares, and the gilded-maned stallion’s attention wavers from the pine needles to the tree that seems to catch the brown mare’s attention as well. When Oceane starts introducing them and names him, he gives her a slightly tilted head and moves his tail a bit, ice blue eyes calculating as if he is not sure if she’s trying to insult him or not; then, he turns back to Bean when she speaks, and gives her a nod. “I’m from Icicle Isle, despite what Oceane likes to think.” He smirks a little at the colourful pegasus on the ground, then looks at Bean. “I wander so much, I might as well be from nowhere in particular. I’ve never really found anyone with severe problems with that… unless you count the ones who really don’t understand that I do not tie myself to a place in a political sense.” He sighs a little, thinking of Lepis, of Castile’s unsure looks whenever he passes by. Oh no, what if Leilan knows some weakness of our kingdom - well, he’d call it BS and would happily continue rolling in the mud, for example.

    The scaled horse’s vision is above excellent, and he does notice the small change of expression in Oceane. However, he does have a feel for more sensitive information (and though many might claim that’s not the case, there are enough in the world who have seen the softer side to prove it). Shaking his crest to rearrange his mane and provide a small visual (mostly glimmering) distraction, he then looks to Bean. “Would you say you’re looking for a home then, or rather not?” he asks curiously.

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #7
    for the call of the running tide

    Despite her sour mood, Oceane can't help but cough laughter at the brown mare's retort for Leilan. Even the amused response from her stallion friend, he who seems accustomed to sardonic jabs, furthers the growth of the smile gracing her purple lips. Leilan had acted the same on her first day in Loess - something that, at the time, had seemed like an act for her and Castile, but now feels more endearing than she had originally anticipated.

    Oceane stands, her ears swiveling in tune with the brown mare's noncommittal response regarding her song. She side-eyes the other woman for a brief moment, watching her as she watches the tree, curious if the song was one from her past that she'd rather not delve into. As someone with a past she would prefer not to dwell on, the opaline pegasi can understand this and, so, decides to let the subject drop. Oceane would not have particularly understood anyway if Bean had told her simply that the song had come without meaning from her subconscious.

    She catches Leilan's apprehensive gaze as h tries to determine whether or not she is trying to be rude, to which Oceane gives him a sly grin as she stands. Ruffling the pine needles from her gleaming wings, the Loessian woman listens to the ice-encrusted stallion explain the truth behind his traveling spirit. She presses no further, though would admittedly quite enjoy continuing the ruse of Leilan living within the foothills territory.

    Her frown, coaxed out by the scent of sea salt in her hair, is short-lived. Drawn back to the conversation by Leilan's inquisitive prodding, Oceane waits expectantly for Bean's response. "Where has been your favorite place to visit so far, Bean of Everywhere?" she asks despite her desire to offer the brown mare an escort back to Loess. Instead, she opts to feed her own curious nature, hoping to find another place in Beqanna to visit soon.

    Preferably a place without kelpies.


    @[bean] & @[Leilan] | speech
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #8
    Bean never paid attention to his eyes until now, but they are quite an exquisite green. Like grass or leaves, and her stomach rumbles at the thought. Which puts a stupid grin on her face because she wants to tell him that his eyes look nice enough to eat but that probably isn’t proper… “Mmmm…” she mumbled incoherently, staring at his face instead of the tree that had moments ago been her chosen focal point.


    He earns brownie points for the confession that his own mother had once asked him the same thing. It was the kind of answer that was expected because of his curmudgeonly ways but also unexpected because it made his eyes twinkle and his whole face light up with something Bean thought she recognized as mischief. Mischief was something that always spoke to her heart and finding a fellow scamp just made her time there in the forest that much better.

    In fact, it made her like him that much more. She laughed in response, entirely delighted and sure to let him know by the way her belly shook and the laughter came from somewhere deep and genuine inside her. “Wish I could have seen the look on her face when she asked you that!” Bean gave him a conspiratorial wink as the conversation moved on to where each of them belonged.

    “Politics, schmolitics!” she chuckled, not caring much for that sort of thing. Bean knows she’d be a useless sort somewhere; maybe that’s why she’s found nowhere and goes everywhere her happy little heart pleases. Hm, food for thought. Food, like grass - like his yummy green eyes… okay Bean, focus! She makes the mistake of meeting his eyes though, just after this thought, as he asks her what she’s looking for.

    “Oh I don’t know really…” she drawls, trailing off into a thoughtful silence. Okay, it looks thoughtful but Bean might have just zoned out and not thought of anything at all. It just never occurred to her to tie herself somewhere, even if it was in a metaphysical sense since she was darn near useless besides causing trouble and making others laugh. Do they have room for tricksters and mischief-makers here? 

    But the purpled mare stands and shakes the pine needles off herself and Bean is once again, easily distracted by so much gleaming pretty skin. Not once is she jealous. She’s okay being just plain old brown, like a paper bag or a handful of dirt but gosh, al that color was astounding! It kinda reminded her of the rainbow-colored snowflakes that Blue had made for her the moment they met. Come to think of it, she misses him…

    “Oh ummm…” she trails off again, cocking her head to the side this time as her eyes narrow in true thought. She’s actually thinking this time before she blurts out an answer, “The meadow! Or island resort.” Silly Bean doesn’t offer any reasons why, she just grins at the pair of them happily and her tail twitched a little, as if the happiness just can’t contain itself in her smile alone. 

    @[Oceane] @[Leilan]
    #9
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    The green of his eyes fades when the subject becomes a little more serious - still, they may have a turquoise sheen whenever he grins, even though the normal ice blue seems to take over again. ”Oh, I wouldn’t know if you’ve liked it. She looked ready to eat me alive.” A crooked smile is shot in her direction, before both the brown and the roan’s attention is drawn back to the purple mare on the forest floor. As she stands, he registers Bean’s opinion on politics, and a grin is directed at her. ”Ah, a woman after my heart.” he beams, then nods to the winged mare. ”You couldn’t happen to be swayed from the path of politics and diplomacy for a while, could you?” What he really wants to know is what happened to her to be found here; his best guess is that she met someone who didn’t care about her wishes for diplomatic meetings. Or she had walked into an enemy land of Loess. Perhaps a Pangean or something - then again she smells of the sea, so maybe further north. But Heartfire usually doesn’t shoot the messengers, he thinks, and so it remains a curious happenstance.

    When Bean finally answers - not his question, but Oceane’s - he tilts his head, snapped back to reality as his ice blue eyes regard her. Someplace warm, then. ”There are a few herdlands, practically devoid of politics. Ischia might suit you, or the Pampas.” He tilts his head a little, nods to himself. ”Both are incredibly lovely.” Not that he’s actually ever visited the Brilliant Pampas, but he hears that it’s basically the Meadow but blooming year-round.

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    @[Oceane] @[Bean]
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    #10
    oceane
    to the lonely sea and sky


    Despite her current mood, Oceane is pleased when Bean and Leilan take ownership of the conversation without her. It gives the opaline woman time to listen to the normalcy of their small talk, to settle into her emotions, to... do anything other than force platitudes from her mouth when her mind is half a continent away.

    When finally she finds her hooves, letting the rainbow light from her balefire wings splatter across ground and branch and company, Oceane finds it in her to grace Leilan with her mischievous smirk and Bean with her unfaltering curiosity.

    She even expresses something close to genuine amusement at what she interprets to be an attempt at flirtation from Leilan to Bean. A woman after my heart. She flicks an ear toward him but aside from the short-lived grin that forces the corners of her mouth upward, Oceane gives no other indication of her assumption.

    "The Resort is intriguing," she agrees with the brown mare, "and Blue lives there. He's the first horse I met when I came to Beqanna." She thinks fondly on the memory, and though she had opted to follow Castile to Loess instead of Ruinam and Blue to the Island Resort, Oceane had still made it a point to go visit the stallion in his island paradise after she'd gotten settled into her own foothills home.

    With another ear flick, the pegasi turns her attention to Leilan as he offers his own insight to the territories she may enjoy. His mention of Ischia causes a sharp pang of discomfort in her chest, forcing a sharp intake of breath and a swift clamping of her feathered wings to her gleaming sides.

    "Perhaps you should stay on Ischia's main island, should you visit. I hear the outer isles can be a bit dangerous," she tries to add without drawing undue attention to the comment.



    @[Leilan] & @[bean] | "speaks"
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by




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