Beqanna
you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - Printable Version

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you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - magnus - 10-30-2016

— find what you love and let it kill you —

To say this meeting had not gone the way that he had wanted would be an understatement.

He had started with hope flaring in his chest, a light that had burned back the edges of depression just slightly, and now he felt the dregs of it crawling back. Of course this had happened under his watch. He was thankful for those who had come forward and while he felt those protective flames still fanning in his belly, as the adrenaline receded, they did too—leaving him before the gathered crowd.

His gaze swung to the next few to join them. Aranea, who was still a silent enigma to him, although he recalled how she had been wiling to be there next to him when he had been wild with grief in the meadow. Thorunn, who looks frustrated and impatient with the whole process (he can hardly blame her). Rael Fire, another Tundra soldier, and then Longear, his granddaughter with the wild, flighty eyes.

He had a duty to them, a responsibility, and he straightened his shoulders beneath it. Turning toward Rael Fire, he nodded, holding her gaze steadily. “Good. You should speak against what is not for the best of Tephra.” He glanced around to the group. “All of you should.” His tail flicked against his haunches. “I am not a King here. I am not here to rule over you, I am here to serve and to help and to guide. That is all.”

At her scorn, he just laughed and shrugged. “I agree. I would very much like to discuss our plan.”

He addressed the group again, “I am not sure how much you all heard of my original proposal before the meeting went,” he searched for the word, “sideways.” Oh, how he longed to not have to repeat the entire thing again. “For those of you who did hear, do you have any questions or concerns? I would like to get something established so that we can feel like a stable land and less of a place in constant flux.”

Another brief pause.

“I also need to know which among you are interested in joining our central caste and which are interested in potentially joining the counsel, either as head of the army, the diplomatic head, and other. In addition, I plan to visit the other lands shortly, if any have interest in accompanying me on the journey."

And then, he fell silent. Hopefully, they would be able to sort this out quickly before night fell.

magnus



just thought it'd be easier to have a clean slate here.

TL;DR:

* Offspring, Eight, and Malis have stepped down as leaders of Tephra
* Magnus is proposing one leader with support of a 3-tiered council. One would be the head of the "guardians" or army / defense. One would be the diplomatic head. The third would be nominated by the leader.
* He is also proposing ranks with one caste. You could gain points and promotions by typical diplomatic or army activities so no one would be limited to either [although, of course, you could do one or the other if only one suited you].
* He also wants to organize some trips to visit the other kingdoms / lands to feel them out.

RE: you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - Rael Fire - 11-01-2016

At her brother's absence, she took it on to suggest herself for army. "I will take the army, if it is fitting. To serve and guide. I do not believe myself capable of truly ruling anyone; but I am capable of guiding, maintaining." She speaks, dipping her head at the word 'maintaining' to signify she is finished speaking - at least for the moment. She stepped back, into the edge of the crowd. She didn't want to stick out and purposely lead; but she didn't want to stand in the background and follow somebody else.

She thought about visits, and it led to her thinking about family. She wondered where they were, now. But she dismissed the thought, instead focusing on her future being laid out in this moment. Her future life, name, title.. And children. A small kick made her gasp; she was showing signs of carrying twins again this year; the swollen size had reached the equivalent of two newborn foals' worth as she reached the due date's weak grasp on reality. "I'm fine. Just a kick from one of the foals." She assures the others, mostly her brother Real. He'd shown up just before her gasp, and he was looking with concern at her form.

RE: you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - Aranea - 11-01-2016

Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies, across this new divide

the world settled back in to quiet.

or, as much quiet as could be expected, anyway.

they moved on with magnus' guidance and the shadowed mare listened. she listened and she felt a certain eagerness flutter in her chest. she ached to help. she wanted to speak up, loudly, and claim one of those spots for herself.

surprisingly (to her, at least) it was the diplomacy she wished to head. aranea had spent many years fighting - many, many years - and for once she was eager to use words rather than brute strength. of course she would fight for tephra if they needed her to (and she would wish to remain a part of the army) but she wanted to seek peace for now.

it should be easy, shouldn't it? the world had turned upside down and left behind no room for petty quarrels. but that would changed. it always changed.

at his query, his invitation, she stepped forward and bobbed her head. she wished to accompany him, that much she could convey. aranea sought eye contact with the stallion and put what passion she could in to the gaze - would he see how much she wished to help? would he see how trapped she felt?

most importantly... would he have any kind of solution?



RE: you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - Longear - 11-05-2016

It blows over like all storms do; like winter thaws.

She was raised to appreciate the hills and valleys of life – of nature. And the Mother, Vineine had assured her, was responsible for all of them. For the black-fleshed demons who had violated, forever, the soft land of her babyhood to the big grey and his toothless trespass. Once, her mother had struggled with the many things that seemed so antithetical to the Goddess – death, undone; the strange beings that manipulated the fabric of her physics and chemistry, so much so that they seemed separate from her hand.

Until, one day, she had laboured over the ransacked nest of a cottontail and the Mother did something she had not thought possible (or, had thought possible, but improbable – against the laws of Her nature; to live and let die). She plucked the soul from the body of a fading kit and sent it hurtling through her body, into the churning lair of her womb and merged it carefully with the meat and spirit of her daughter. In that moment, she realized that the Mother works in strange ways, beholden to no rules, at all.

So Longear came to be, glancing over her shoulder to where her daughters tip-toed from their hiding place to return to her side – tittering away to each other in a language all of their own.
Came to stand, half-responsible for their being – nature, at its base function, but utterly mesmerizing all the same.
Came to be without her mother, and yet, still standing.

Hills and valleys.

“I will join in visiting other lands, if you’ll have me,” she smiles, her mother’s smile, “it probably needs not be said, I am simply not a fighter. The Mother willing, I will be reunited with my other soul soon, and trust me, she is not, either.” It is cowardice at an instinctual level – self-preservation, to put a kinder name on it. “I come from a line of diplomatic women; I may have other uses in times of… tension, but I’d rather not call on the specter just now.”

To be sure, she was not made to be a fighter, but clandestinity is not a stretch.


RE: you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - magnus - 11-13-2016

— find what you love and let it kill you —

Magnus did not expect the meeting to flourish after the initial explosion, and he is not surprised by the quiet. He glances over those who had still gathered around him and he just nods. To the first who stepped up, he smiles. “Rael Fire,” he says the name—for perhaps the first time. “You and I have not had the pleasure of working together, but the first step is willingness. I appreciate you stepping forward. Because I do not have any prior knowledge of your skill, I will not make you an immediate and permanent leader of the army, but you will be placed as a temporary leader. You can hold meetings and trainings as you wish. Should you do well with the responsibility, you will be granted the position on a more permanent scale.”

At the second mare who had stepped forward, he frowned slightly. He had seen her several times now—the first time had been when he had gone to the Field himself. No time he had seen her had she spoken, which made his stomach churn slightly. At first, he had thought she was just shy. Now he was beginning to wonder if she had the power to speak at all. “Would you like to accompany me?” he asked as he held her gaze and then, quieter, “Just stamp your foot if yes.” He would have to think of a solution for that.

To his granddaughter, he smiled. “It would be a pleasure to have your company, Longear. I can think of few things that would please me more.” In this new world, warriors were important (at this, his gaze moved over to Offspring and Malis, edgy and strong), but diplomats may be who paved the path to true and sustainable peace. He had learned over the years how to tame his tongue, but he was not a diplomat by nature. He would need those with more peaceful skill sets to help guide Tephra to security.

Finally, he addressed the group once more.

“With that, I will conclude this rather…eventful meeting. If you are interested in any of the open positions or if you would like to join our singular caste, seek me out. If not, enjoy Tephra—and stay safe.”

magnus



RE: you'd place your hands upon my weary head; ALL [cont.] - Rael Fire - 11-14-2016

"I understand; I would do the same in your position. I would like to know who is looking to join the army/defense," She acknowledges his decision as wise; she is honest in her response and gives a respectful dip of her grey head as she feel the weight of the path she is choosing settle on her shoulders.

She decides that when the gathering is over, she'll ask for those interested to stay after for a head count and to brainstorm on some ideas. Ears forward, she waits to see who will come forward after this; they have seen an interesting group so far, more so than before.

She wonders what exactly Beqanna is capable of, and is lost in thought for a moment before looking around again. She did not want to look like an incapable day-dreaming mare that so many would prejudice her to be if they met Rael, and she envied stallions of the strength they are typically stereotyped by young, dreaming fillies to have compared to the weaknesses colts assume mares or fillies have.