"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
I once held your soldier heart between my war teeth; shook it like a dog with a bone until it knew the fear of good love.
" Do you remember? "
The world is too much and not enough for the shadow of a girl. Beqanna is a bottomless fathom or possibilities- a reckless adventure that awaits her (and her shackles). Those shackles, the ones she does not quite understand - the declaration inside her that she must obey. Certainly it is a gift (curse?) from her father? Hadn’t he always said that a good girl is one that does what is told?
Their conversation was torn asunder- a moment of history riddled upon her soul, questions thrown to her that she was not readied to answer. Eons of yearning to know stretched before her- tell her more, she must know, she needs to hear.
The painted sorceress faded suddenly, as did the dreams she called into Greta’s soul. Called elsewhere more important, she supposed. Something she was quite familiar with; how quickly her father appeared and disappeared, leaving her to rot and wither and never age inside his glass fishbowl.
But where, but where? Her body aches with the want to spill open her lips and give the painted witch her answer. She had said “Tell me who your father is.” But she had left before given an answer. Greta’s tongue burns, her head aches, her body tears in two with the wont to heed and obey.
It did not take her long to find the ‘where’ - her soul calling her to where she needs to obey. She followed the acrid smell of smoke and disaster, the taste of it ripe with familiarity from her wretch of a father. A fire bright and mighty, eating up the earth. There are creatures in the sky, and screaming on the horizon, and the thick suffocation of panic in her throat.
This - this is unlike anything she has seen. It is like the snowglobe she once lived in - a microcosm of events all hurling themselves together, and she does not know where to look as she crests the land and looks before her. It is chaos, fury, a clashing inside her soul that tears her this way and that.
Her eyes furiously scan the horizon until they settle upon the only soul that is familiar - Straia. She is helpless in the might of all this power - there is nothing she can do except for stay steady, to not run in the face of danger or the unknown. Eight. She furiously thinks. Eight is my father.
Nerine - Greta just came in to find @[Straia] , and sent her thoughts out to Straia letting her know Eight is her daddio. But she's not getting tooo close to the situation since she is defected with obedience and literally still mentally a child and is wowwed by everything (and is also terrified). So if anyone is looking to fuck with her, (or be nice!) feel free.
Use of minor power playing is allowed in regards to commanding her obedience.
09-13-2020, 07:08 PM (This post was last modified: 09-13-2020, 07:11 PM by Brennen.)
The dragonborn were the first arrivals, but the first one he bothers to take more than a passing notice of is Straia; the rest are annoyances, mere children with their dreams of power, but the bay-and-white magician is closer to Brennen – both in terms of power, and in age. He “hears” her offer, it trickles seductively into his head with visions of his beloved Tundra, but his loyalty to the North here in this time holds fast. She has not established a life here like he has; she is newly returned to Beqanna. Her memories of how it used to be are not dimmed with time like Brennen’s.
He knows when @[Beryl] launches herself at Straia, but he has no energy or concentration to spare her more than a thought, a tendril of regret that she is likely to be hurt taking on the magician. Brennen has not been unaware of her silent vigil, and he would protect her if he could.
And then there is another magician. One older than Brennen, older than Straia, and when she adds her power to Straia’s, he knows his time is limited. Their temptations are not enough to sway him, not yet, but despite the power flowing in from the ocean around him, he is rapidly dwindling to his last reserves – his own life force. The barrier flickers, letting them in in ones and twos, but each new arrival has to fight against the magic trying to keep them out with every move they make as it pushes back against them.
He cannot see the chaos with his eyes, but he can “see” it in his mind. He can see that they are young (so young!) and they are wild – half of them are not even fighting in any meaningful way, simply destruction for destruction’s sake. With the exception of a very small few, none of those for whom he is killing himself have come.
Brennen can see @[Straia] intervening to prevent the injury of children, hears @[Anaxarete] tempt him again with memories of lands long lost, and he waivers mentally. There was a time when he would have given anything to have his Tundra back; or even to reside in the familiar Waterfalls instead. There is no magic left, just the trickle of power he can draw continuously from the ocean. If he continues, he will kill himself. And Brennen would do it, too; he is fatally loyal. But two three things happen at once: at the edge of his awareness, he comes to understand that @[Leilan] is not coming to fight his own fight; @[lilliana]’s foreign power floods into him; and his own last dregs of life are reached.
The fury at Leilan’s defection breaks any ties he might still have to the North. Brennen lets go of all of his magic – his ties to Nerine, to Icicle Isle, to Taiga; his individual links to each and every one of its people; his barrier. The trickle of backlash power from letting go of it all is enough to keep him alive, and he embraces the power of Lilli’s healing; it patches up the torn-up places inside of him, leaving him exhausted but whole.
The ice around him cracks and starts to float away or melt, and Brennen is revealed once more standing belly-deep in the freezing winter ocean, his physical condition deteriorated to mere skin and bones but his amber eyes bright with anger. He has enough reserves left to calmly walk out of the water and over to Straia and Ana, striding through the chaos unscathed as if none of it is there. Whatever ice was still clinging to him is melted by the time he reaches them, but when he opens his mouth, his unused voice is gone within the parched desert of his throat. So is his control, burned away by the sheer amount of power he has used, so when he speaks telepathically instead, it bleeds all over into whoever happens to be paying attention, instead of speaking directly to the other magicians. ‘Whatever loyalty I had to this place means nothing when its own leaders do not show up to defend it, instead going to wreak havoc elsewhere,’ he sends to them, fatigue and disgust and ire fighting for control of the tone of his mind-voice. ‘I would welcome a return to a Beqanna where people stood for something. I would help you build it…after I sleep for about a month. I’m sure you can find me when you’re done here.’
He offers them his partnership, and then he simply vanishes. He wasn’t kidding about needing the sleep, so he’ll have to talk about his place in a New-Old-Beqanna….later.
td;lr: Brennen almost kills himself to keep the barrier up, which flickers and admits people but would also push back against them every time it comes back on-line, leaving them having to constantly fight against them. But right before he literally kills himself he realizes Leilan isn't coming and breaks ties with the North, using Lilliana's offering to keep himself alive and taking down all of his magic. Then he aligns himself with Ana & Straia and leaves.
Something is happening. It’s disturbing magic everywhere, the sheer amount of power being drawn upon in one place; it brings even Nikkai out of her shell and she follows the disturbances across the burning Taigan forest to the edge of Nerine, where two of the others who had returned with her from the Beyond are standing around at the edge of an invisible magic barrier, burning away at it. She’s not a skilled magic user, though she’s been practicing after the overpowered fiasco that was her last attempt, so it takes her a moment to look into the past and present and brush the minds of those present until she understands what is happening.
The waste of life here disgusts her, and she wants to know who send these…babies…into such meaningless chaos. She’s standing there considering her options when Brennen walks up, and eyes the bay stallion with curiosity – this man has been protecting her descendants for decades, but she has not had the opportunity to speak to him. He offers his allegiance to the other two magicians, and as he is speaking, he is thinking of the Pampas; with her loose control of magic she is still partially viewing the future, so Nikkai can see when he is about to simply drop out exhaustion. Instead of allowing him to fall on his face in front of @[Straia] and @[Anaxarete] (he is the type to be extremely embarrassed by that, and she owes him for protecting her grandchildren), she whisks him away to the cushioned winter grasses of her Pampas.
For a moment, Nikkai sees double – the two women in front of her, and the bay stallion passed out in the Pampas. Blinking away the Pampas, she looks directly at Straia and Ana. “If your plan is to bring back lost lands,” she says quietly, thinking of her beloved Waterfall, “I stand with you.” They share other things as well – Nikkai is a little older than Straia, relatively, but they are more of an age than most of those surrounding them. And, they have all come back to the living from the thinning of the veil. They had been used for some purpose here, and perhaps it’s time for them to turn the tides their way. Her brown eyes flicker in distaste to the chaos of Nerine. “What do you want to do about….this.”
Honestly. Children killing children. Who is behind this madness?
The chaos is intoxicating and frightening all at once, Beyza does her best to focus on the simple tasks she has - take down the barrier, let the fires burn. Her magic is so young compared to those that she is surrounded by but their presence bolsters her instead of making her feel weak. One day, that will be her - powerful and wild like the fire and shadow mares.
One of the things to grab her attention is the materialization of a tornado, the torrent of air a threat to everyone. When the barrier falls, Beyza does not linger to wonder what comes next - she rises and fights the strong air with her wings. Already she is tiring but there’s enough in her - she hopes - for this one last thing. She can feel her magic rally for this, as if it knows that it will stop others from getting hurt.
She does not not want that. Not here, not when it is unnecessary. The land needs to burn but this, this storm is just destruction without cause and she cannot imagine it stopping on its own.
It would be easier to change than to get rid of it entirely so Beyza beats her wings and each beat sends her magic forward to the tornado and tries to disperse and calm the winds, turning the torrents and ice to harmless mist before it can cause more damage. The air currents will still eddy and swirl but without the terrifying force behind them, they'll be little more than a cool wind to any that they might touch now.
just a lil post - Beyza uses her magic to calm the winds and turn the tornado to mist and make it not a threat!
09-14-2020, 08:15 AM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 06:22 PM by Straia.)
is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
@[greta]’s thoughts snag her attention. An obedient child indeed, which could have its uses though in the end, is not what Straia wants for any child. Even her own were given the freedom to make their own choices, to follow in Straia’s footsteps or not as they desired. Some were more like her than others, and that was fine. Straia did not seek to make the world entirely like her, after all. Greta, she coos into the girl’s mind, voice soft like a caresses or perhaps like the slither of a snake. ”Thank you for the answer. It is not safe for you here though. Go, and find me in Pangea when this is all over. Straia would offer freedom, if the girl wanted it.
She can only hope Greta listens, because her attention is needed elsewhere and Straia shifts her focus back onto Brennen. She can feel him dying, can feel the way the power he wields ebbs beneath the onslaught. There is no reason to kill him, but she wants him to break. Needs him to break. Wants him, above all else, to see her point of view. She does not need his cooperation, but it would be vastly better with it.
Then the barrier disappears, and @[Brennen] comes to them, worn and ragged. He offers a partnership, and she simply nods in return, the agreement made. Lelian, at least, had flown off to do something of use though still, he did not stand to protect his own lands. And where was Nerine’s ruler in all of this? Nowhere to be found, it would see. Only Lilianna continues to stand, to fight against them, though her own home burns to the ground.
There’s soon another, perhaps roused by the sheer chaos of the magic running rampant in Beqanna now. Very little of it is Straia’s, for without Brennen’s wall she lets her fire die, leaving only the ravens who do little more than protect the children. Occasionally their wings brush against a shrub, but they do not even seem to actively be trying to set Nerine on fire. In the end, that had never truly been her goal. ”The Falls was a beautiful place,” she says to @[Nikkai] with a small smile.
At the other entity’s question, Straia turns her attention back to Nerine. It burns, though not horribly so since they are in the North in the middle of winter. She sees little more than children playing at war, really. They have no idea what they are doing, and there is no reason to keep going. Her attention turns briefly to Lilliana. ”I do not seek your title. I do not seek to hurt you, or your family. I seek only a better world than this.” If Taiga’s leader is paying attention, perhaps she will notice how little damage Straia has actually done.
”PANGEA” Straia calls, her voice not a shout but a command, amplified by the magic. ”You have done what you came to do,” she says simply. ”but Pangea has been given to me, and I have far better plans for you than this. Return home, and we will begin to remake the world anew.” Perhaps they would destroy it first, but destruction has never been her goal.
Her raven's wing upward toward the sky, turning to clouds and water as they go, expanding. She calls to the sky - a power she has only just acquired and has very little mastery of - but she has enough experience to create the storm. Dark clouds gather above them, without thunder or lightning for the sake of those in the sky, but the clouds open and rain pours onto the ground beneath them. She does not control the size of the storm, but does her best to cover at least parts of Nerine and Taiga both, to slow and dampen the fires if not stop them. Do not say she has never done anything kind.
Her attention turns to @[Anaxarete] and @[Nikkai]. ”Let’s see if they will listen to me,” she says with an amused grin. After all, she has just claimed Pangea as her own when for all they know, Ghaul should still be it’s leader. ”If they do not though, strip their powers until they do.”
Straia called all of Pangea to go home and stop burning Nerine (cause she got what she wanted), and then called a nice rain storm. She also suggested to Ana and Nikkai that they should feel free to (temporarily) strip powers of anyone who doesn't listen.
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission
09-14-2020, 06:37 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 06:37 PM by asphyxea.)
asphyxea
i've been around this world and now everything's a bore i don't know that much, but i know about keeping score
Asphyxea is relieved to find that her brother followed her, but she is not relieved to see the panicked face of Cirilla. The girl's screech forces Phyx to stop short in her attack, to dig her talons in and take several steps back from Amarine. He wild teal eyes flicker between Ciri and Ama for a second--a second too long for as the princess' sister screams, a tornado erupts before them.
"You fool!" Phyx screams at her sister, hurriedly backing up further and attempting to usher Virgil along with her.
She doesn't see or hear Tarte over the din around them; so when a pair of ram's horns bruise her ribs, a fierce roar leaps from the depths of her chest. She is too worried about the tornado to fully recognize the girl that runs around with Ciri, instead continuing to backtrack and herd Virgil; but when the weather around them suddenly dissipates into mist, Phyx whirls to settle furious, cold eyes on the demon-girl.
"Defend her, then," Phyx spits, "I'm not so foolish as to harm my own blood on purpose. I would heal her if you both didn't just prove how stupid you are." The princess bristles, smoke escaping from her clenched incisors. Phyx turns sharp eyes to Virgil, only softening them a little when she murmurs, "Thank you for your strength earlier, but don't heal Cirilla. She needs to learn. Like Yadigar did."
Straia calls the Pangeans back and Phyx dips her head, knowing that passing Pangea to her is something her father would do. She flashes those unfeeling teal eyes back to Ciri for a moment, something akin to sympathy in them.
"Cirilla," she says loud enough for both her and Tarte to hear, "come home. And if those burns don't heal, you know where to find me." Asphyxea turns away, ivory tail swishing irritably against her haunches. "Virgil," she murmurs,"are you okay enough to travel home now? Let's go."
and if there's one thing i know for sure, it'd be a long cold day in hell when i take you back
@[Tarte] @[cirilla] @[virgil] tagging yall cause its relevant to yall haha
tldr; phyx screams at ciri, backtracks from the tornado, gets hit by tarte but continues to leave bc of tornado, then tornado disappears and phyx snaps at tarte and ciri, then tells virgil its time go home when straia says so. just a quick post to wrap up her time here lmao
09-14-2020, 08:04 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 08:04 PM by virgil.)
VIRGIL
i will answer god in a voice made of teeth.
He yelps in surprise as Tarte’s horns collide with his sister’s side. He’d been so focused on the ice and the wind that he hadn’t even seen her rushing toward them. But he reminds himself that he must focus, he must repair any damage done, and he quickly delves deep into Asphyxea’s bones to ensure that she isn’t harmed too badly. Virgil can only patch her for now, but he tugs a rib into place and reduces it to a fracture.
He lifts his head when he hears a familiar cry - Cirilla. Virgil never understood his gentle siblings. How could they not delight in bloodshed and chaos as he does? Cirilla flings her peace at the youngest of the brood, but peace for him has always been in the hunt. His alarm returns when Asphyxea’s fire blankets the angel-sister, and for a moment he reaches to catch her in his healing. Father would certainly have commanded him not to let her be harmed, wouldn’t he?
But Aspyxea barks an order at him and he startles at the rage in her voice. She must learn, as Yadigar did. He nods slowly and tightens his tether to her.
“Y-yeah. I’m just.. scared,” he confesses when she asks if he’s alright. He casts his golden gaze at Yadigar and wonders if the magicians will be able to muzzle him and bring him back home. But he cannot leave without saying goodbye to Ciri, and so he looks back at her over his shoulder as Asphyxea herds him away.
09-14-2020, 08:22 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 08:31 PM by yadigar.)
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
As the wind dies and the barrier falls, the connection between his mind and his heart flickers back to life. Yadigar collapses into the mud with his sides heaving for breath. He has not been this tired in his entire life, he thinks. It takes several minutes for it to dawn on him that he is no longer standing at the border of Taiga and Hyaline. Everything is torn apart or on fire, and everyone is still screaming around him.
He tries to get his legs beneath him. His muscles tremble and give out, sending him back to the ground. Yadigar wonders if he should lay here and die. The alternative would be asking Anaxarete or Beyza to collect him, and he knows they would deliver him back to Pangea. Would Ghaul be proud to see him like this? Perhaps he would receive a hero’s welcome. The thought churns his stomach and he begins to prefer death.
But he can hear Cirilla screaming and he forces himself to get up. Every step is a fight to even stay upright. His wings hand limp over his sides as he stumbles to her. He thinks that Tarte is beside her, and he finds some morsel of joy in the fact that they are here. It means they are alive, if nothing else.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, but they may not even hear him. “I’m here now..”
And then the world goes black as he collapses once more. Slowly, his body sinks into the earth, and it emerges in the familiar canyons of Pangea
he tried to reunite with @[cirilla] and @[Tarte] but Beyza magic'd him back to Pangea
The world comes into a strange focus. She drags herself up onto the ledge, crouches, panting, and the only thing she sees is the bay magician. At the edges of her vision, everything else swims, waves of color and sparks. It was too much. It wasn't like in the dream, none of that was real, the power she had thrust out into the world had meant nothing, but this? She feels empty. Empty, except...
Except. Except there's Brennen, and his regret, and she knows that everything has changed in an instant. She's knows it's over - it was over as soon as it started, of course, but she clings to her lost cause and her heart breaks. Brennen breaks. Dark eyes watch him awaken, and without the shimmer of magic spreading out from him, there's little more than a shell left to the man, his skin dry and crusted with salt like tears, the feathers of his wings worn and faded. He agrees to the invaders' terms, to their dream of a world Beryl has never known, weaving back and forth on tired legs battered by the sea.
The scarred grullo appears out of nowhere and a tired growl plays low in Beryl's throat.
No.
She stands up. For a moment, everything spins. Brennen's weight shifts forward. Beryl is already slipping clumsily from her perch, half jumping, half tumbling, she stumbles when she lands, tripping over the rubble of the cliff.
No.
Her stomach lurches when the water touches her paws, her lungs feel heavy, cold, and she chokes audibly. And then, he's gone and the lion-girl lunges into the water where he had been a second earlier.
"Where is he?" Her voice is raw from smoke and emotion. "Where the hell is he?"
09-14-2020, 09:13 PM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2020, 09:34 PM by lilliana.)
The air is rife with chaos and Magic.
It's a testament to Straia's power that she cuts through it with such ease. It could be alive, the Magician tells her. (And how that hums, how that sings in her veins. She had always been told that had she been born in Paraiso, she would have felt the golden valley flowing through her. That the Falls would have presented answers to questions in times of trouble; that the Magic of her homeland could manifest itself in times of great crisis, in times like these, to protect and defend those within it.)
Straia's mouth curls around a firestarter smile and Lilliana watches her.
She doesn't force herself into Lilliana's mind. She asks and so she is granted permission. Most of the places she is shown are unfamiliar; kingdoms gone and though she holds her breath for a glimpse of the Dale, it doesn't come. There is no mention of the Neutral Mythic kingdom that her ancestors once called home. Its a glimmer of the Deserts (that place she still dreams about, that dying sun and the way that the life left Craft's eyes) that makes her start to pull away. It's a glimpse of (what she assumes) is the Chamber that places the thought of Taiga in her mind, a memory of someone once telling her that the Redwood Forest might be the Chamber reincarnated. That makes her retreat from Straia's Magic, the way that the remembering sears her mind.
Her blue eyes lift to the painted Magician's with an answer.
Lilliana's heart is breaking into a million pieces. It all turns to dust - to ash - in her chest. The place she has called home meets flames and Nerine descends into turmoil as Brennen and his magic ebbs away like a tide. (She looks to Brennen with sorrow in her gaze; she wishes that there is more she could do.) His barricade finally falls and then so goes the former Champion of Nerine.
The chestnut mare doesn't miss that those fighting are some of the youngest residents of the North. A voice rings out when the beach erupts and Lilli can't hide the panic that rises from hers, "Yanhua?" Rocks come flying from all directions, cutting her and the Taigan turns her head sharply away from those gathered looking wildly for her son. Unable to see him, she turns her attention back to Straia: "A better world doesn't come from those who would use their powers for destruction." She spits, growing anxious to catch a glimpse of her child amidst the fray.
Once upon another life, she had been taught that; that there was no greater calling than to serve, to help. And in this one, she seems forever destined for lost causes. She bleeds from a cut on her forehead with no way to stop it. That ability gone with their former Champion.
It tangles her voice and when Beryl approaches the group still left, she cuts the girl off: "Gone."
