[open] i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: [open] i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] (/showthread.php?tid=16873) |
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i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Malekith - 10-21-2017 This land is strange and cold. The only things he can remember are the Chamber and Lyanna. Oh, Lyanna, his beautiful, cunning twin. They were basically mirrors of one another, aside from their coloring, twins born of the late and great Tatter and Frostreaver. The two of them had left behind quite the legacy, but the twins had never been able to quite live up to it. He used to be young and reckless, much like his sire in his own youth, angry at the world for no reason other than he could be. He had certainly made no friends in his youth, nothing to carry on for later use in life. He doubts those of Beqanna even remember his name. He almost prefers it this way. He was ignorant in his youth, blinded by the fact that his parents were once monarchs of a kingdom that they failed many times over. Tatter had thought himself a great king, but he was ignorant, too; blinded by the glory his father had set in front of him at a very young age. Frost was... something else entirely. Never built to rule, but thrust into the spotlight nonetheless before abandoning the crown and her lover, her own half-brother. Malekith and Lyanna were born long after their parents failed as rulers, and the painted stallion was never quite able to get over it as a child. It turned him bitter and angry, but the struggles of his youth have graciously been left behind him, much like Beqanna herself had been broken down and made anew. Sure, there is something in the stallion that is cruel, scheming, but he isn't a child anymore. He will make his own way in life, of that he is sure. He does not need his parents' broken legacy. He will build his own. RE: i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Starlin - 10-22-2017 The djinn was gone. There one day and gone the next, an intangible presence that she couldn’t quite remember anymore. Even the most recent memories seemed blurred by the haze of decades gone. The girl can’t quite comprehend it, but such is the way of the old beqanna magic. Starlin has tall and lean on the grey shores of Nerine, a bold pale figure among the mostly mottled crew of the Iron Queen. She towers over her mother these days, but the two share the same large expressive eyes, the same sculpted desert face. Mother’s are sea green, and Starlin’s are a deep blueish grey – the shade of the sea before a storm, her father’s eyes. No longer able to take on her more agile shape, Starlin has taken to running as a horse. The exercise pushes her loss from her mind, far enough that she has time to process without becoming overwhelmed. The young mare has just finished such a run, and she takes stock of where in the Forest she’d wound up. Her survey of the surrounding land stops when she sees movement. Black and white, like the residents of Nerine, close. Starlin raises her head and calls out in familiar greeting, realizing a moment too late that the stallion is a stranger. Her face flushes, and she briefly considers turning tail and running home. But she is already breathless, and nothing good has ever come from running from things. “Sorry,” she calls to the unfamiliar stallion, the short distance and fall-silence of the woods around them making it easy to hear the apology in her words. “I thought you were someone I knew.” RE: i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Malekith - 10-22-2017 As a child he'd been angry, so angry at the world. He had wanted to lash out and make the world burn, as his sire had attempted before him, but he had never had the means to do so. He didn't have the temperament to rule, and he certainly didn't have the personality that would make others want to follow him. He had snapped at the men and women who had come knocking, defying them for all that he was worth, and it had all been for naught. The kingdom had fallen and Malekith had disappeared into the depths. The Chamber is no more, and as far as Malekith is aware, he holds no interest for the newly formed kingdoms of this Beqanna. He holds no particular attachment to the old world—it had been nothing but cruel to him, after all—but he feels the same for this new world. Surely there is a place he can go, and sow the seeds of his ambition, slight as it is, but for now he is content to wait. He has ideas that could further him in life, but he doesn't feel the need to make any kind of move as of yet. He simply doesn't want to. He moves nearly silently through the trees of one of the newer common areas, his hooves brushing lightly over the fallen leaves. He pauses as he hears a call echo through the forest, swinging his heavy head towards the whinny, though he knows it can't possibly be for him—the only ones that would remember him are all dead or vanished. His yellow eyes fall upon a pretty young mare, watching her as she freezes and flushes, clearly having just mistaken him for someone she knows. An easy smile spreads across his face as she apologizes, and he takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them until just a few yards separates the unlikely pair. "It's no worry at all," he tells her. "I'd be surprised if you did know me. My name is Malekith. Would you be so kind as to tell me yours?" RE: i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Starlin - 10-23-2017 This Beqanna is the only one that Starlin has ever known. The tales of the old kingdoms, of the plethora of herdlands, of the days when most horses were naturally colored and without gifts. That is all they are to her, tales, stories that the older generations tell. She knows of his Chamber – mother has told her stories – but doesn’t know to seek the scent of old pine and sweeping cliffs on his piebald coat. The smells might still linger; Beqanna seems to have left some of her residents in a limbo of time and space. Perhaps to him the world of old was only a moment ago, but to Starlin, it was her entire lifetime. The stallion is handsome, with curious yellow eyes that remind Starlin of the eagles that she has seen only the cliffs. He is monochrome like them too, with stark patches of black and white. No grey though, she muses as she takes a few steps forward to bridge the space between them. She has grey though, so perhaps together they are like the harpy eagle. “Malekith,” she repeats, the name pleasant and – as he’d suspected – unfamiliar. Perhaps he is from one of the other kingdoms, she muses, out for a walk in the forest. “I’m Starlin.” She is young and emboldened by his warm smile, which gives her the courage to ask: “Do you prefer to keep to yourself? Is that why you didn’t think I would know you?” The questions seem logical to the grullo filly. “Or…oh.” The pause, a sudden moment of realization. “Were you going somewhere? Did I interrupt you? I’m so sorry.” She looks it too, eyes downcast, her emotions quicksilver. RE: i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Malekith - 10-28-2017 Malekith i wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic RE: i hope you'd come to the funeral [anyone] - Starlin - 10-29-2017
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