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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


    surely you can't be serious; any
    #1



    Before McDonald’s, I bet “don’t buy cheeseburgers from a clown” was a pretty hard and fast rule.
     
    Just because nobody wants to or knows how to react to Satty doesn’t mean he won’t come around, most often when the author is tired, or craves attention, or when her state decided to reelect a monstrous callous hell bitch of a senator and she needs the world to be fun and entertaining. Also, like Stuff happened, and some cool horses are coming back (hi Tiphon! Hi Set!), so it’s only natural that a completely irrelevant horse should come back, too.
    Right? Right?
     
    Now, the description:
     
    Satire (Satty to his friends, which is everyone) is a not at all on-the-nose named horse, who has been around Beqanna longer than plenty of you have been alive, a complete impossibility given that he’s like 347896789 years old, but time is an illusion and fake horse roleplaying games even more so.
    He’s piebald, and put together like a drunk man’s puzzle, nothing fitting right or looking good, and possibly faintly smelling like vomit, even though horses can’t vomit.
    (Listen, I had a coworker tell me a story about a friend-of-a-friend who shipped horses on a ferry and said ‘even the horses were throwing up!’ and I, a charming and professional coworker, replied ‘if they were throwing up they’d be dead, horses can’t through up,’ and then for some reason she left my office. Horse vomit [or lack thereof] is the hill I’m willing to die on.)
    Satty has done a lot of things in his time at Beqanna, none of them memorable to exactly anyone but him. But that’s okay, because they made him happy, and sometimes that’s all that really matters.
    Would he like to have god magic? Sure. But maybe the real god magic is the friends he made along the way.
    (What’s that? He doesn’t have friends? Okay, well, maybe the real god magic was the…nights spent alone thinking about trees.)
     
    One thing Satty hasn’t done: get deathly ill with the plague. Or carried it. MAYBE that will change today, as he plunges headlong and heedless into the hauntingly heralded hectares of the hmeadow.
    (Alliteration = good writing.)
    (I misspelled alliteration at first thank GOD for autocorrect.)
    You never know, though! Today could be that day! The world is full of opportunity!
     
    Here he is in the meadow, totally cool, and totally plagueless, maybe, or maybe not.
    Bring it.
     

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    Messages In This Thread
    surely you can't be serious; any - by satire - 11-10-2018, 08:50 PM
    RE: surely you can't be serious; any - by Ilma - 11-12-2018, 09:45 AM
    RE: surely you can't be serious; any - by The Egg - 11-13-2018, 04:32 PM



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